


The Serpent and The Lamb

by TheRomanticist02



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: A long one shot?, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Violence, Dubious Consent, Homophobic Language, M/M, Racist Language, THIS IS SO LONG, i dont know what to call it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 03:15:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19190809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRomanticist02/pseuds/TheRomanticist02
Summary: And there are times—far apart, but there nonetheless—that Xavier feels his safest with a serpent.





	The Serpent and The Lamb

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! Look, initially this was going to be Rolleigns...because you can't ever have enough Rolleigns, however I did prostitute-Seth (that feels awkward to write) or former prostitute in the case of The Royal's Consort. So I had to make do with my next favorite ship, LOL. I'm obsessed with these two and I quite like the idea of them together. I also think this is fitting for both of them.

The first time Xavier encounters _him_ is one warm, humid Thursday evening.

He’s just punched some pervert right across the cheek, and is making his escape, stumbling down the putrid streets in his heels before the man can retaliate. The streets are revolting and polluted, making him feel unsafe. It’s too dark, and Xavier can’t see anything beyond the shabby buildings and stores.

The stale air is going to suffocate him, and for the first time in so long, he feels so alone. The void smacks him right across the check, forcing him to pause at an empty street near a closed deli. He’s had a long night—a draining one. His last client was a sadist who enjoys testing his limits and stamina. Xavier has just been fucked by four men over an extended period of time—three hours to be exact. And naturally, his body is in pain, it feels like it’s been lit on fire and his left cheek is throbbing. He’s contemplating calling an Uber because part of him fears he won’t make the thirty minute walk home without collapsing on the sidewalk when shining headlights focus on him.

They belong to a police car.

And Xavier’s stomach immediately churns and rolls, dropping to his feet.

He feels like crying because of course this would happen to him. The one day that he’d rather be home, curled up in bed, and drowning in his sadness—and this freaking happens.

Immediately his hands lift to the air, raising his skirt in the process.

He’s going to comply with whoever the cop is, it’s in his best interests to do so...given the history of people like him and ‘law enforcers’. But Xavier’s body still burns scalding hot as the stale air whips his thighs—it’s unwanted and causes his trembling to increase tenfold. And though internally, his heartrate is spiking up by the minute, Xavier still puts on a brave face, waiting with baited when the police car opens, a tall figure stepping out into view.

Footsteps echo in the darkness, the only sound in a night as dead as this one. Slow, controlled, predatory, almost…taunting. The sound makes Xavier uneasy, he almost wants to beg for mercy even though he hasn’t really done anything wrong. He hasn’t even seen the cop’s face yet, doesn’t know what the man wants from him.   

Intense blue eyes sparkle in the dark—frozen irises that sends electrical chills down Xavier’s body making him feel numb, like ice. The air around him chills too, seemingly intimidated.

The man doesn’t stop until he’s an inch apart from him. He’s tall and muscular, practically towers over Xavier intimidatingly. The dark blue of his uniform contrasts his tan skin gorgeously—and it fits him perfectly, not too tight but not loose either. Xavier—aware of the uncomfortably close proximity—tries to move but the man’s glacier eyes have him frozen in place. Unwelcomed shivers break out on every inch of Xavier’s skin when the man’s eyes wander. And in his embarrassed state, his hands quickly drop to his skirt, he tries to pull it down.

“Randal Keith Orton…just what have you stumbled upon?” the man—Randal, Xavier had heard him say—starts in an oddly soft voice. His gorgeous smile steals Xavier’s every breath but not in the romantic way that the novels describe. It’s more like a punch to the guts. This _Randal_ is smiling in a way that is terrorizing. His whole aura screams : _danger!_ “What is your name, boy?”

“Xavier Woods,” Xavier responds, faking as much confidence as possible under the intimidating scrutiny. Working the streets has taught him a thing or two on toughness…or at least acting like it. “I—was just on my way home.”

“A rent boy.” Randal continues, ignoring the last part of Xavier’s statement. “Pretty young thing you are.” His wandering gaze is predatory.

Ah, so he’s one of _those_ cops.

“Thank you,” Xavier flashes a fake smile.

“Why he’s polite, too.” Randal drawls, a low smile spreading across his face, eyeing Xavier. “And how old are you, dearest Xavier?”

“22.”

Randal nods, smile widening. It sets Xavier on edge, the smile on the cop’s face isn’t well meaning at all. More like an apex predator luring its prey in. “How is school? I haven’t been there in a while but I remember it used to kick my ass. That didn’t stop me from being top graduate in my field though. What are you studying?” he asks so casually, oddly friendly smile on his face—it contradicts the cold blue of his eyes.

“Psychology…it’s...going good.” Xavier answers absently, Randal’s smile is distracting.

“Impressive. Student by day; rent boy by night.” Randal says it so fucking _casually_ like he isn’t aware that what Xavier is doing is illegal—as if it’s something that he genuinely applauds. Xavier isn’t fooled one bit by that charismatic smile of his. “I must say, I do admire hard workers—and you, Xavier Woods, look like you’ve had one _rough_ night.” An expression that looks so much like sympathy flashes across his face but Xavier thinks it’s meant to mock him. The way the bastard had said it sounded too ingenuine.

A moment of silence follows, Randal spins on his heels suddenly. His precise steps stalking away from Xavier but the young man doesn’t dare move, fearful that even the tiniest movement might cause this man to pounce him. For all Xavier knows, it could be what Randal’s planning. Xavier’s mind only begins reworking when Randal invades his space again—charming smile on his face. “Tell you what, because you’re so tired and those shoes you’re wearing look mighty uncomfortable, I’ll allow my inner gentleman to shine through and drive you home…for just a tiny payment.” The bastard says it so fucking _coolly,_ like Xavier can say no if he wants to and they can both go on their merry way. Xavier knows the police enough to know that that’s not the case…

“What is it going to be, boy?” Randal asks, charismatic smile in place, he folds his arms across his chest, looking unperturbed as ever.

“Like I have a _choice._ ” Xavier glares because it doesn’t matter what says, he’s still going to get used—whether he wants to or not. And the worst part…he won’t even get paid for it.

Randal’s unperturbed by the glare—he’s smiling in fact, like he finds Xavier _funny._ An amusing puppy made for his amusement. “Intelligent too? Randy, you sure know how to pick ‘em.” A charming smile, and Randal walks away. The action says more than words ever could. Swallowing down his saliva, Xavier follows silently behind Randal.

*****

Xavier makes his payment in the hidden location of some abandoned park ten minutes from where his apartment is. With his knees scraping against the cold, rugged ground and his head guided into Randal’s crotch. Xavier spreads his ‘perfect dick-sucking lips’— _open wide, baby boy—_

_No, don’t think about it._

and feels the thick, veiny meat stab his esophagus.

Randal comes with a loud groan, unending praises fall off his lips— _shut the fuck up—_ while Xavier struggles against gagging from the taste. He closes his eyes, removes himself from this situation. He doesn’t want to remember Randal’s scent, the feel of his hands, his _taste._

* * *

 

The second time Xavier encounters _him_ is a vibrant Saturday evening nearly two weeks later.

He’s honestly forgotten about the cop (Randal’s not the first ‘law enforcer’ to abuse his power after all) and is moving on with his life like usual.

Most of his customers he gets through referrals from the other johns who love his work. But sometimes Xavier has to work the streets. That happens rarely and for various reasons but mostly when he feels the need to escape being subjected to Tyler’s love.

Tyler is his roommate, although Xavier uses the term loosely, said roommate is barely home lately. But Tyler’s also a best friend. He used to be a hooker too but quit permanently about four months ago. Tyler is in love, he met the guy at a gaming conference nearly a year ago and he’s dropped down to taking one dick everyday, for the rest of his life…for fucking free. A blasphemy! But it sounds like he’s happy and content, so Xavier is happy for him.  

Anyway, Xavier normally escapes his and Tyler’s apartment whenever his best friend makes up with his boyfriend after one of their frequent fights. Their fights can get really bad but when they make up it’s even worse. They make love like the world is ending. Jey (Tyler’s boyfriend) will usually come over and they will have sex until the morning light. That equals annoyance for Xavier, he always has to bear their moans and grunts and their loud sounds. There’s been plenty of times that Xavier has found his best friend in compromising positions with Jey in the living room, sometimes in the kitchen. Jey and Tyler will have their makeup sex any and everywhere. So Xavier has taken to working every time that happens.

The girls who work the streets with him give him sour expressions as usual.

Xavier’s just had his third customer in _one_ hour. He’s the busiest of all the hookers. And when he sashays past them, they degrade him for quite sometime before things get really confusing as they scatter like busy ants. Xavier only hears their murmurs of, “Oh shit! Popo alert! Scatter. Run, run, run!” before he blinks and he’s left alone…well, not completely. A blinding light shines from behind him. And for some reason…Xavier thinks he knows who it is. There’s a heavy feeling on his shoulders, that feeling of being punched in the guts returning, cool night air transitioning into staleness.

The first thing that comes to mind is : _god no—not again._

It’s not a good idea, but Xavier still looks over his shoulder, connecting with pale blue eyes. They still send shivers down his spine.

“I—wasn’t doing anything!” He stutters, cursing his stupidity. His outfit gives him away, why he’s here. No one stands in the fucking streets in a thong and a harness top. And with the heavy makeup he has on…he looks like a drag queen.

“Tell that to the judge,” Randal rolls his eyes, his pale blue darts sharp, with a hint of humor dancing in them.

Of course he’d say this. With his usual nonchalance. Xavier hates him—and it usually takes so much for him to feel that way toward another human. But Randal’s managed to ignite that toxic feeling…and Xavier’s only met him once. “I said I ain’t doing nothing. Leave me the fuck alone!”

“But where’s the fun in that, boy?” the sadist prick flashes one of his charming smiles. “Come on, get in the car. Don’t make a spectacle of yourself.”

Xavier remains unmoving, glaring daggers at the man who hasn’t left the police car but looks at him through an open window. “I’m—tired.” He folds his arms, faking confidence, and looks around. As expected, the street is empty—with the exception of a hobo searching for food in garbage bins. Great…the man won’t be able to do anything to help him.

“I’m a gentleman, Xavier.” Randal says his name so casually—almost mockingly—and Xavier is tempted to punch his little smirk away. “All you have to do is ask and I will gladly lift your feet off the ground.” A stupid charming smile, Randal tilts his head to the side as if he’s considering something. “Of course it will cost you more but still.”

Xavier doesn’t miss how those pale blue eyes—oh so cold—stalk his body, a ferocious hunger in them. Xavier’s breathing quickens, he doesn’t know why. And he hates the way his stomach churns in a way that tempts him to clutch it to prevent the unwanted bubbles from spilling out. “Fuck off!” he hisses without thought.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Randal grins. “You don’t call the shots. Besides, I’d rather be fucking you at the moment. Get in the car.”

Xavier bites back an insult, grabbing his satchel off the ground. He follows behind Randal, getting in the passenger seat. He looks outside the window, refusing to look at the man beside him.

“So you’ve taken to whoring yourself on the streets, too?” Randal asks, and although Xavier refuses to meet his gaze, the man’s hard tone can’t be ignored. It’s...condemning.

Xavier shakes his head. “Only when I desperately need the money.” He doesn’t really, but he’d rather do this than hear Tyler and Jey. He won’t be subjected to their love.

There ain’t never enough money for whores.” Randal says simply, like he’s discussing the weather and not insulting Xavier.

A glare from the young man, “Because men like you exploit their power and fuck us for free!” he braces himself for some sort of physical attack but Randal just chuckles like Xavier is an amusing puppy of sorts.

“You’ve got _spunk,_  boy. I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Xavier glares, but says nothing. He doesn’t want to, not when the car is parked at the same park from last time. He jumps to the backseat at Randal’s instruction—laying on his back with his thighs splaying wide open. Randal joins him a second later, sealed condom in between his teeth. Xavier tries to tune out everything from the radio static to Randal’s controlled breathing, he even attempts to tune out the sound of his heavy heartbeat. And he’s nearly successful…but the sound of the condom wrap being torn open harshly draws him back to his reality.

“You are so beautiful.” Randal’s moist breath caresses Xavier’s face, his finger tracing the young man’s nipple. Xavier barely stops himself from curling up in disgust, Randal’s touch slithers across his skin, leaving goosebumps in it’s path. “And a sensitive one too apparently.” Randal drawls, looking down at Xavier like the predator he is.

Those frigid blue eyes forcibly draw Xavier in, demanding all his attention. _Alluring._ Xavier’s heartrate spikes up by the minute, and he’s helpless against looking away. _Get it over with._ He murmurs silently, readying himself for penetration.

“No, no, no. What are you doing?” Panic sets in, strong and fast, when Randal’s large hand grips his dick firmly and he begins to stroke in hard, firm strokes.

“Gentleman,” Randal reminds him, smirk playing at his lips. He knows what he’s doing. “Surely you weren’t expecting me to have all the fun? I am not that cruel, come on now.”

“I—don’t want it this way. I—don’t…please.”

“I will admit I wondered how you would look on your back, all spread out like this. Reality is definitely better than imagination.” Randal continues, blatantly ignoring Xavier’s plea. The young man closes his eyes, unsure if it’s because the touch is unwelcomed, or maybe something else—because that hand feels…a sexy moan sneaks past, Xavier arching into the man above him. He bites his lip right after—horrified. _This is not happening._ “R-Randy, I…please…” he doesn’t dare open his eyes. Right now, he wouldn’t be able to tell you what he’s begging for.  

“I haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already moaning my name.” Xavier can feel the sadist prick’s arrogance—it’s palpable. “Why, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were begging to be fucked, Mr. Woods.” Two long fingers at his puckered hole, instinctively Xavier pushes down on them, surprising himself in the process but the touch is… _different._ So reminiscent of his days before—

A strangled moan, Xavier arches into Randy. He starts to pant like a dog as wicked hands work his dick, and his now slick entrance. A nudge to _that_ spot. Xavier screams, blunt nails digging into car seat. Another nudge. Fast, vicious strokes. Another nudge, relentless until Xavier is putty in Randy’s hands. He’s pushing back on thick fingers inside him when it suddenly stops. Hot, flushed and dripping wet, his eyes meet Randy’s glacier ones—too blank for him to read. “While your wanton moans sound like a beautiful symphony, I do think we can do better than that. Part your pretty lips, Xavier, and tell me how I am making you feel.”

Silence.

Xavier won’t do it. He’d rather die than admit…which is funny because that’s what he usually says about his clients. But Randy’s different—he has a way of making Xavier feel helpless. The power snatched from the young man and he hates it. Admitting that this feels _good_ would mean another way that he’s losing his power and Xavier won’t allow that, he refuses. Which is why he bites his lip, heart pounding hard against his chest, and looks away. They may as well end this session. He doesn’t give a fuck.

_Shit!_

He whimpers in pleasurable pain as another nudge comes to his prostate. Randy’s hot palm twisting and pulling at him, his thumb lingering on the sensitive head, teasing Xavier’s slit, causing the young man to squirm and scream out a hoarse, “Oh…god. Fucking…fuck. R-Right…NO!” he cries as Randy denies him again.

“Tell me,” is said deceptively kindly, coaxing.

Xavier’s eyes snap open, wild with frustration. “Fuck you!”

Again that grin that tells Xavier that the man’s amused by him. “ _Like this?_ ” Xavier makes a strange squeaky sound, eyes widening in surprise—and then they water when Randy begins moving because _dear god._ Xavier’s harsh pants fill the car, his chest rising and falling in sync with Randy’s...who has given him no room to catch his breath. Randy’s going to town, nailing _that_ spot and stars dance in Xavier’s vision. “Goddamn, sweetheart. You’re hugging me in all the right places.”

A shudder runs through Xavier at the words, and he mewls in response. The pace quickens as Xavier instinctively starts to push back against Randy’s dick. The ability to think has long disappeared. Xavier is being ravished, every ounce of his flesh tasted—he’s on fire, rendered useless in Randy’s wake. He’s panting, and squealing, and moaning, crying. It’s pure _ecstas—_

_No…please._

“Dammit! _Please…_ ” the sadist bastard’s stopped again. Xavier squirms beneath Randy, spreading his legs wider, silently begging : _More. More. More._ “What—the f-fuck do you want from me?”

“ _Tell_ _me_.” Randy growls out this time, gripping Xavier’s hair, he pins the small man to the car seat. Hoarse screams. A trembling of thighs. Scraping of nails on a strong back. It’s rougher—almost animalistic. Xavier’s too dazed but he swears the pale blue eyes burn with carnal desire. The intensity of their burn causes him to whimper.

Another bludgeon to his prostate and a moan is ripped from throat. “No.” Dark brown swirls water, and he looks away. There’s a distant feeling threatening to slither back it’s way into his heart—to hurt him—he won’t allow it. Blinking the wetness out of his eyes, Xavier wraps his arms around Randy in a bid to hide his fragility. “Just fuck me and get it over with. Give me all you’ve got.”

Part of him is expecting Randy to taunt him, maybe tease him a little bit more but Xavier gets his brains fucked out instead. Maybe Randy could sense the shift in the car that’s set alight with a burning passion. Maybe he can’t hold out much longer, too. But Xavier wails, taking the relentless prodding to his sensitive prostate. Randy takes him higher and higher—and Xavier’s on the verge of losing control.

He can’t hear anything anymore, can’t see, part of him thinks that he’s not even breathing. He can only _feel._ Randy’s words reverberate against his inflamed skin, like a caress, another penetration. He can only feel Randy’s _gentle_ but ardent touches as they dig into his skin, deep into his being. He can feel Randy tense, and then shoot his load into the condom but somehow…it still feels like his essence has trespassed, finding it’s way deep into Xavier’s core—setting everything around him on fire.

Xavier follows right after Randy, coming with a shocked gasp. Holding onto Randy tightly, he buries his face into the man’s neck—too ashamed to admit. He’s been having sex since he was thirteen.

And this is the first time in four years that he’s truly enjoyed it.

* * *

 

Following his second encounter with Randy, Xavier meets the sadist prick yet again a week later.

Only this time it’s in a grocery store.

Xavier hates him, he truly does. But he can’t lie, Randy is a good looking man. Everything from his chiseled features to his ‘to die for’ body. Randy missed his calling as a supermodel…or an underwear model. Xavier will repeat—he hates Randal Keith Orton but Randal Keith Orton is packing some heavy machinery. And he knows how to use his equipment (even if Xavier is still trying to forget their sexual encounters) very, very well.

They meet at a grocery store and Xavier is frozen in place for the longest time. He’s with another hooker—one of his few female friends, Alexa Bliss. Randy is unperturbed, like usual, he moves discreetly—predatory with his blue eyes wickedly gleaming. All air is snatched from Xavier while he struggles not to reveal that he’s affected. It’s just…Randy’s an intimidating man.

The policeman only comes to talk to him when Alexa remembers that she forgot to include some tampons to her shopping. Xavier is still gawking at him, marveling at the sight of the man in his home clothes. Blue jeans and a grey v-neck, long-sleeved t-shirt pulled up to his elbows and clinging to him just the right way—teasing a beautiful sculpted torso beneath.

“Mr. Woods,” Randy drawls, going as far as caressing Xavier’s cheek in mock affection.

It causes Xavier to flinch back as if he were being burned. “Orton,” he makes sure it’s laced with venom, kind brown eyes glaring daggers into an unperturbed bastard. “What are you looking for, more sex? I don’t work on your schedule you know.”

Randy grins, running his hand through his short hair. “Tempting but I’m not an eager exhibitionist. I was attempting to be the perfect gentleman however, I couldn’t possibly leave this store without greeting you—my good acquaintance.” He goes a mile further, wrapping an arm around Xavier’s shoulder to squeeze it gently—pure mockery of course…at least that’s what Xavier thinks.

“What do you want you asshole?”

“Right into it. I admire your eagerness.” A charming smile. “I want you to meet me somewhere. I’ll send you the address.”

Xavier shakes his head stubbornly. “I don’t think so. You’re not my only client you know. I’m working all day today. I—can’t just abandon my _paying_ customers for you.”

“While that is a disappointment, I understand,” the bright smile on Randy’s face says otherwise. “I’d hate for your clients to suffer, and like you said…they are _very_ important while I…well I just expropriate the goods for free. It’s just not fair.” And then his hand goes to the small of Xavier’s back, guiding him to  where the cashiers are. “But if you are overworking yourself knowing full well that you have classes tomorrow I’m afraid I have to put my foot down. To be honest, I am quite concerned, and although it would be a shame, I think that…perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad idea as a concerned _friend_ to pay the Chancellor of Tampa State College a visit, express my concerns on just how hard you’re _overworking_ yourself. Mr. McMahon is it? I hear he’s a very difficult man. With zero tolerance for people offering the kind of services you do…unless of course he is on the receiving end. But you shouldn’t have a problem with that. Heck, you do it for free sometimes.”

Xavier feels his skin crawl at the mental image but Randy’s words reignite his initial hatred and suddenly his beauty isn’t enough anymore. They’re paused at one of the isles and Xavier harshly pulls out of Randy’s touch. “Good luck with that. Vince doesn’t entertain every stupid rumor.”

“Of course, he doesn’t. Which is why the proof will be right there for him to see.” Randy grins sardonically. “I’m sure he’ll find the pictures of you leaning in some john’s car in that _sexy_ , pleated leather miniskirt that reveals just how beautiful and _plump_ your ass is very arousing. Who knows? He may use it for inspiration on lonely nights in the comfort of his bedroom.”

Xavier’s skin is still crawling, he holds back a gag. “So you’re following me around, too? I’m so lucky.” He quips, rolling his eyes—although…he thinks he should’ve probably seen this coming. Guys like Randy are never satisfied. Ever.

“Nothing any responsible gentleman wouldn’t do,” Randy shrugs, grinning a self-satisfied smile. He looks really pleased with himself, like he’s genuinely doing something _good._ This guy’s a psychopath.

“Whatever.” Xavier shakes his head, and moves to maneuver past Randy. He can spot Alexa looking at him from the distance, near the  freezers.

A hand grips his arm before he can leave—hard enough no doubt there’ll be bruises imprinted on his skin. “Did I dismiss you, boy?” Randy has a cold smile on his face.

Xavier answers with a sigh. “No. But if you would be so kind as to get to the point so that I can leave already…your _highness._ ”

“My, my…I dick him down _once_ and he’s already exalting me.” With the slow widening of Randy’s lips comes a _rougher_ digging into Xavier’s arm. “I’m eager to find out what other praises your pretty lips can come up with.”

“Fucking get to the point!” Xavier hisses quietly. “What do you want from me?”

“Your cell number for starters,” Randy holds his phone out, saying it so fucking smoothly as if he’s asking Xavier out on a date and the young man can still say no…they both know that that’s not the case.

Snatching it, Xavier saves his number on the psychopath’s phone. He throws the phone back to Randy.

A sardonic laugh from Randy when he looks at his phone. His eyes are almost translucent, the palest blue color, they look icier than normal. “Fuck toy, huh?”

Xavier shrugs, folding his arms defiantly. “I’m no human being to you.”

“I’ll send you the address.” Randy gets into his space, lone finger trailing down Xavier’s cheek. It causes Xavier’s skin to break out in goosebumps. The touch, strangely, reminds Xavier of a serpent. With just that one touch, Xavier feels a slithering sensation throughout his body. He’s noticed that about Randy’s touches. They’re deceptively gentle, enticing—luring you into an illusion.

“I want you to come dressed like this. While the skimpy outfits look good on you—there’s something enticing about seeing you in your sweatpants and hoodie. Without all the makeup and dramatics, you appear almost…innocent.” Randy taunts against Xavier’s ear, and smiles at the young man’s shudder. “I’ve tainted the whore, Xavier. I’m looking forward to tainting the innocent lamb, too. Just a smidgen though…a beauty like yourself shouldn’t ever be tainted completely.”

Xavier remains silent, but ice cold _fear_ grips him when Randy moves suddenly, face so close to his he can practically taste the man’s lips. _Please don’t take this from me._ They’ve never kissed. Xavier makes sure not to with all his customers. He’s completely against it, and the deep intimacy he feels kissing represents.

As quick as Randy had been invading him he pulls back again, taking all the cold with him. “Until we meet again, Xavier.” With that he turns and walks away.

*****

Later that night, Xavier finds himself in some cliché hotel room. It’s gorgeous, a nice change from the shady ones he normally goes go to with his other clients.

He’s on his knees, being fed Randy’s cock in his mouth.

The touch is gentle as usual, like going at a slow, steady pace makes things all better. Randy moans and groans, tight fist on thick black hair. He’s too far gone, doesn’t seem to notice Xavier’s eyes water when he changes his angle, thrusting deeper into the young man’s throat, causing him to choke.

Randy’s hot and mildly salty when he spills down Xavier’s throat.

The young man gags, and out of pure hatred for Randy in that moment, scrapes his teeth against the cop’s dick. That earns him a sharp hiss from Randy, and he’s pushed away harshly.

Xavier’s punishment comes differently than the ones that he’s used to.

He receives an out of control, vicious deep dicking. Hoarse moans and screams echo in the room, you’d swear the owner of said sounds was being burned alive. And maybe Xavier is…in ways most _sinful._ He’s trembling, and biting onto the pillow, with his back arched to perfection while taking a brutal battering to his prostate.

He leaves that night satiated, limping, with sore muscles, and an ass drilled to rawness.

* * *

 

Their encounters become more frequent after that third encounter in which the sadist prick took his number.

Randy can’t be evaded, not with the way he’s forcibly snaked his way into Xavier’s life. The prick cop always seems to find him. Always. It never matters which part of Tampa Xavier is in.

It’s been two months now.

Xavier has noticed that he’s been having sex more with Randy than he is his clients. All Randy and his demands of course. Xavier follows his orders, going to one hotel or the other—at least they’re not shady, a welcome change to all the piss-infested ones that Xavier’s used to. But he’d like to think that he knows Randy enough to know that the change only happened in order to lure him further in—trap him into yet another illusion.  

He thinks he’s slowly falling for it. There’s been times where Xavier has found himself almost…looking forward to their encounters. Because with Randy things are… _different._ The _sex_ is _different._ But then he always ends up hating himself for even allowing Randy to get to him, and in extension, extends the same hate to Randy. And it’s back to square one again.

He’s just left another hotel, where Randy had fucked his brains out, and is on his way to his next client.

The one thing that Xavier came to realize about his profession is the power of a male hooker. It had taken him a long while to realize it but he did.  

He was nineteen years old when he made his first serious cash. He’d spent the year before whoring himself out for far less than he actually deserves. That’s because he hadn’t been knowledgeable, hadn’t realized just how _special_ he is. His _rarity_. And the _power_ he possesses.

Many men would rather die than to admit to the world what they prefer. Most of them attempt to suppress, to shun away—to get rid of the ‘evil’. They marry women, have kids, become ‘model’ citizens in the eyes of society. Because appearances matter. Religion matters. Society matters. Friends and family matter. There is no place for homosexuality in their worlds. They would rather die than admit…

These are the same men who, in the darkness of the night, still cough up their last cent to get a taste of what they truly prefer even for a second.

Because despite their best attempts to shun away, they still _need_ to quench that ‘dark’ _desire._ And so they crumble, searching for what the girl whores wouldn’t be able to give them. And that’s what sets him apart, what makes Xavier so special. None of these girls offer that, none of them.

Arriving at the next hotel, Xavier can’t help but notice the stark contrast between this hotel and the one he left not too long ago. He notices his client even before he can get out of the car. Xavier likes to call him Sullivan. The man’s a result of when two racist, homophobic rednecks come together to create an even trashier version of themselves. He’s also married, with two children. Xavier doesn’t know much about him except that the brutish man is making quite a career for himself in politics.

“Hello, Sir.” He greets, sultry smile on his face. Sullivan refuses to be called anything else.

No response, as expected.

Xavier’s guided inside the hotel as a large hand settles on the small of his back, gripping painfully. Xavier says nothing, leaning into the big man’s side, and stares at his heels while Sullivan takes care of the rest.

The hotel room’s details are lost on Xavier because as soon as the door closes, Xavier finds himself being pushed against it roughly. impatient, callused hands slither beneath his coat, searching. A loud groan. They connect with his thong-clad ass. Heavy breathing at his neck.

Xavier is carried to the lumpy bed.  

Closing his eyes, his back arches into position, ass in the air. Round one. Rough, painful. A vicious pounding to his ass. The roots of his hair are being pulled out, sending fiery stabs to his scalp. Xavier takes it like a pro, moaning dutifully. Round two, on his back. Xavier holds eye contact at Sullivan’s harsh request—unpleasant shivers racing down his spine. The bed creaks loudly, ragged breathing stealing the spotlight. A bludgeoning to his sensitive prostate. Greedy hands dig into his skin. A rough wrap to his neck, tightening. Cold blue eyes gaze down at him. Hot sweat dripping onto his inflamed body. A nauseating scent. “You filthy faggot nigger!”

Xavier is never ready for the first blow. Pain in his left eye. A shrill scream bounces off peeling walls. Another punch. “Filthy faggot nigger! You’re a worthless filthy faggot!”

Xavier screams throughout the entire ordeal. The sounds turn Sullivan on, they always do.

He forgot to mention, the men beat him too.

* * *

 

The bruises will take a while to disappear.

Xavier avoids working, hiding in the comfort of his apartment. He uses that time to catch up on his favorite anime, read a few manga, and catch up on his Tumblr. Tyler remembers that he has an apartment apparently, and pays a visit. He immediately knows what happened despite the fact that the bruise on Xavier’s left eye has slowly been fading out.

He cries, Tyler always cries when this happens. And then they argue about it, but in the end they make up, like they always do. They play video games and Tyler offers him some retail therapy but Xavier turns him down. He doesn’t want to risk meeting Randy in public…Randy who has been calling him nonstop for the past seven days.

There are also over thirty ignored messages. And more voice messages than he can count.

Does the sadist prick pursue everyone like this?

Xavier has no idea. He’s not sure if he wants to know.

Anyway, Xavier ignores Randy’s calls because then the snake will find some manipulative way to convince him to meet up and he doesn’t want that. Part of him is ashamed because of the bruises decorating his body. He doesn’t want Randy to see him like this. Besides the possible mockery, he also doesn’t want Randy to poke at his vulnerability—it will only be used against him.

* * *

 

He ignores Randy for nine days in total.

And when Xavier finally checks his phone, there’s too much activity in there than he can keep up with. He deletes everything, doesn’t even bother to check what the messages entail. He chooses to work on his fan fiction instead—and writes until the incessant buzzing of his phone forces him to respond. He wouldn’t have answered honestly but he’s tired…maybe curious too.

“You’ve taken to ignoring my calls now?”

Xavier shakes his head, although Randy can’t see him. “N-No.” He hasn’t missed Randy’s voice, he hasn’t. “I’ve just been busy…college’s kicking my ass.”

“Oh…and you didn’t think to send a text to inform me. To tell me that you’re okay.”

Why?

“No. I-I’m…I-I’m sorry.”

A breath of silence. It’s…weird. The tension is delicious, Xavier can practically taste it on his tongue—enticing, dark, ravenous.

“I want to see you tonight.” A charming drawl, slithering like a snake into Xavier’s core. He shudders, not entirely out of detestation.

“Fine.” He should probably put up a bit of a fight, and not give in easily, but he’s not in the mood. Letting Randy get this one easily won’t do no harm.

Another breath of silence. He thinks Randy’s surprised this time. Maybe he hadn’t expected him to give in so easily.

“I’ll send the address.” And with that Randy hangs up.

*****

“Going somewhere?” Tyler is snuggled up against his boyfriend on the couch. They’re watching a movie that Jey’s been talking about for the past month. Xavier looks between the two of them, Jey is too focused on the film. He’s not a vulture…the same can’t be said for his prying boyfriend.

“Yeah. Alexa…” he trails off as Tyler eyes him up and down, obviously scrutinizing his outfit. It’s a Yu Yu Hakusho sweater he bought online. He’s also in some skinny jeans and sneakers. Randy is obsessed with seeing him like this, with no makeup, no heels, and his other outfits. He likes that he’s the only one who ever get to have him like this.

“Okay. Be safe, please.”

Tyler always seems to see past his lies.

“I will.” He smiles. It worries him how he thinks he means it. How there are times—far apart, but there nonetheless—that he feels his safest with a serpent.

* * *

 

“I got you a little gift.”

Xavier accepts the gorgeous silver and black box from Randy. The silver string decorating the top is in the design of a snake. Typical. “What is it?”

“You won’t know until you open it,” a seductive low drawl, the back of Randy’s hand trails down Xavier’s smooth cheek. “Go ahead, little lamb.”

Xavier resists the urge to lean into the touch. But his brows furrow as he digs through the paper shred and finds…he shakes his head. “Rope?” it feels nice to touch, intricate design creating small bumps beneath Xavier’s fingers. It’s a bundled up, white color and the young man wonders what it might be for.

“Ding, ding, ding—and five points to Xavier.” Randy smiles, pale blues dancing mockingly.

Xavier rolls his eyes, his feet work on muscle memory as Randy’s hands settle at the small of his back, drawing him forward until Xavier is face to chest with him. Gosh, he’s so tall. “What? Have you finally decided to put me out of my misery and strangle me to death with this? Or are you going to tie me up and beat me to death instead? Both seem fitting for a sadistic psychopath like yourself.”

Randy laughs sardonically, he’s shaking his head.

“You watch too many serial killer documentaries.” Snatching the rope from Xavier, the young man gasps, heart pounding fast against his ribcage when in one swift movement he’s spun around, shoved back against Randy’s front. The rope is around his midsection, Randy’s eager dick rubbing against his ass, moist breath touching Xavier’s ear. “You’re a whore, surely you can figure out what a guy like myself would want to use the rope on you for.”

Shivers throughout Xavier’s body. His mind’s creating all sorts of obscene scenarios. “Bondage?” his mouth immediately goes dry afterwards.

“Change that to intelligent whore,” Randy husks, placing a mockingly sweet kiss behind Xavier’s ear. “Call your friend, tell him you’re spending the night at a friend’s house. You’re going to be tied up all night, sweetheart.”

* * *

 

“Why am I doing this again?” Xavier says quietly in the back of the cab. The Uber driver is gazing creepily at them, unashamedly eavesdropping…although maybe it can’t be considered that when the three of them are stuck in such a small place together.

“Because…” Tyler sighs, punching him on the arm. “You promised. And you’re my only family and this is a family gathering. Jey told me to bring me family and that is you.”

Xavier releases his own sigh, falling back on the comfy seat. Tyler is meeting Jey’s family for the first time today. They’re having a late night BBQ. And Tyler has been talking about it nonstop for the past two weeks. He thinks it means that Jey and himself are finally taking their relationship to the next level. And Xavier…he couldn’t be more happier for him. But he’s still dreading meeting up to fifteen family members. He hasn’t really wanted to be around a lot of people for a long time but he’d do anything for Tyler.

“I don’t know why we couldn’t invite the main guy and his husband over for dinner. It would’ve been easier that way.”

“They’re family-oriented, Jey told me that Roman wouldn’t have agreed to that. Plus, Roman’s like a great cook or something—everyone comes over when he and Seth are hosting a BBQ. Jey figured it would be the perfect time to introduce me.”

“The things I do for you…” Xavier rolls his eyes, looking out the window.

“I’ll make it up to you. Beta read that Winter Falcon story you’re writing.”

“I’ve already posted the last chapter.”

“Oh…already?”

“Yeah. It was only four chapters.”

“Well, I’ll give you ideas on the next one you write.”

Xavier spares his best friend a disbelieving glance. “Since when have you become interested in fan fiction?”

“Since I stumbled into one of your old works. Stucky was it?”

“Yeah,” Xavier grins, “But Sam and Bucky snatched my heart. I just write them now.”

“They do look great together,” Tyler agrees. “I saw them on your Tumblr account.”

“I need to change my password.” Xavier rolls his eyes, stepping out of the cab with Tyler. His best friend literally knows every password to every social account he has. Not that it’s Tyler’s fault, Xavier hasn’t really been creative when coming up with a password. It’s Wingcrest, from one of his favorite videogames. He also has that tattoo on his left forearm so even if Tyler were to forget his password, he’d just have to look at Xavier’s arm and bingo, he’s in again.

“Don’t you dare!” Tyler whisper-yells just as the front door to a ridiculously large house opens.

The man who opens the door is huge. He’s tall and built like a brick shithouse, dressed meticulously in a crisp white shirt that hugs all his muscles perfectly and navy pants with a nice sharp crease. His hair is super neat too, not a strand out of place. Xavier would honestly be intimidated were it not for the man’s kind, dark brown eyes. They lure you in—almost brotherly like (he wants to say fatherly but that’s just too weird) and exude literal warmth. It doesn’t matter that the guy’s not smiling, his whole aura says _trust me._

“Tyler, you’re here. I’m pleased to see you again,” his voice is a deep rumble that resonates in Xavier’s chest. The sound is soothing however—and he could probably put you to sleep by muttering sweet nothings. “I see you brought your brother.”

Xavier is taken aback but says nothing.

“Roman, hi. Yeah, I brought Xavier, he’s practically my brother.”

“Xavier, nice to meet you.” Xavier accepts the offered hand, it swallows his smaller one whole. “Jey’s told me plenty about you.”

“Only good things I hope.”

“Of course,” Roman reveals a hint of a smile. “He praises you for being friends with the love of his life. Please come in.”

The house is warm too. Family pictures on walls. A fireplace. Comfy looking rugs. It’s everything that you’d expect to find in a family home. Xavier reminds himself not to get too attached to it as Roman leads them to the backyard. “I need to change out of my work clothes and then I’ll get started. In the mean time, join the others, relax and enjoy. There are plenty of snacks available.”

Xavier has the time to nod once before Tyler bails on him, running into his man’s arms. It causes the young man to roll his eyes. Why was he even invited if it meant that he would only be abandoned for—

Xavier freezes, unsure of what to do with his trembling hands. But a familiar gutted feeling settles on the pit of his stomach—and he’s not sure whether or not it comes from a good place—making him want to look away from _his_ eyes.

_What is he doing here?_

Xavier always describes _his_ eyes as a chilling blue color, icy and knowing no warmth. That hasn’t changed but lately…those glacier sapphires burn too fiercely, with a wildfire that can’t be contained. They lure Xavier in and freeze him in place at the same time.

Someone pulls on his arm, it’s Tyler.

“Come, I want to introduce you to everyone.”

Xavier can’t get his mind to function but his feet work regardless. Tyler makes him stop at a couple whose names are Jimmy and Naomi. Naomi compliments his clothing. It’s skinny jeans and an LGBT themed sweater that says ‘human’. He’s also wearing large golden hoop earrings and some pink gloss. Xavier thanks her kindly, moving on to the next batch of people with Tyler.

It would seem that maybe Tyler doesn’t know Randy because they don’t go to him (thankfully). Xavier can feel his ferocious, dark gaze on him and tries to ignore it—such a daunting task, his body is already reacting even with the distance.

A little while later and Roman comes back. He’s not alone, Xavier notices, and walks with another man, who’s clinging to him like a monkey. It’s a funny sight and Xavier can’t help giggling a little.

“That’s Seth. He’s Roman’s husband. Twelve years this year,” Tyler leans into whisper conspiratorially.

“They look alike—in some weird compatible way.” Xavier whispers, trying not to gawk for too long. He thinks it possibly has to do with the fact that the two have been together a long time. They also make a beautiful sight, two people you would call a power couple. Xavier notices their differences too. Like how Roman is taller and bigger than Seth. He still appears more put together, too—meticulous, not a hair out of place. And not to say that Seth isn’t put together but his husband looks like the type to take his time and put in some effort into his appearance before stepping out in public.  

Their auras are a bit different too. Seth comes across as more care-free and nonchalant. And while Xavier’s sentiments about Roman earlier still hold, he can’t help but think that Roman’s aura is also a bit intimidating too—he’s _ridiculously_ gorgeous. Tyler pulls on his arm, dragging him to where the couple is grilling the meat…or Roman to be more accurate.

“Seth, hi!” Tyler again greets, enthusiastically, hugging the other man. “This is Xavier my best friend and brother.”

Seth smiles, and a mischief radiates in his brown eyes—they are so big, looking deceptively innocent. “Hi Ty, I’m glad you could make it. And you look stunning, like usual.” The attention is then turned to him. “Hey, Xavier? It’s really great to meet you. Are you the one who gives Tyler fashion tips? You look amazing too.”

Xavier laughs a little, embarrassed. “Actually no. It’s the other way round. Tyler’s the fashionista not me. I just usually steal his clothes or take him shopping with me.”

“I see.” Seth nods his head, grinning. “I’ll have to take him too sometimes. There’s too much black in my wardrobe.”

“Anytime. I’m always available where shopping’s involved.”

“I know, Jey tells me.” Seth teases. He turns his gaze to Xavier, “So…we share love for lots of similar things apparently. Like Game of Thrones and The Power Rangers.”

“Yeah,” Xavier’s grin deepens. “Yeah, I’m into that. Tyler indulges me when he can but most of the time he couldn’t be bothered.”

“It’s the same with husbae,” Seth points to an amused looking Roman. “We share a mutual love for GoT and video games though…buuut I think that’s about it—oh, and football. A few things actually, now that I really think about it.”  

Seth talks to him like they’ve known each other their whole lives. Xavier giggles a bit, discussing his favorite Game of Thrones characters, what he would do were he given the opportunity to write the TV show. Seth’s ideas are pretty good too and Xavier nearly suggests that he try writing fan fiction but stops himself. Maybe these people will think he’s weird.

“Roman’s close friend Randy, he’s an avid gamer. But he’s into like the dark stuff—zombies and gruesome shit like that. Daddy, he’s here, isn’t he?” Seth looks at Roman inquisitively. Their conversation has transitioned into one about video gaming, and Xavier has been surprisingly having a great time. But his heartrate spikes at Seth’s question, plus…he kinda wants to giggle a bit at Seth calling Roman ‘Daddy’ so casually.

“He’s…around.”

Seth laughs, shaking his head before turning his attention to Xavier. “I’ll introduce the two of you when I get the chance to spot him. Randy’s not a people-oriented person, he’s probably lurking in a dark corner somewhere. Or maybe he’s inside the house. But he rarely turns down Daddy’s food so you’ll see him.”

“I—okay.” What is he supposed to say? Xavier bites his lip, following Seth, and carrying the salads to the table. He tries not to startle at the sounds of chaotic happiness all around him—it’s just that he’s not used to this. Part of him is a tad overwhelmed, but everyone of Roman’s family is welcoming.

An hour later and they’re finally situated at the large table.

Xavier stubbornly evades Randy’s pale blue eyes. The cop’s sat on the other side of the large table, two chairs away from him. All around their table carefree chatter and laughter ring loudly. Xavier engages in conversation here and there, trying his hardest to stomach his food with the knots in it.

Evading Randy can’t be done forever, especially because Xavier can’t keep staring at the same people over and over again lest they think he’s creepy. Although kind, he could tell that some of Roman’s family thought that he’s a nerd; what with the things that he’s interested in. He’s not going to add creep to that list. That (dis)honor belongs to Randy.

His gaze finds Randy’s. Pale blue eyes are already feasting upon him.

And in that moment, Xavier gets that ‘punched in the guts’ sensation that’s always there in the sadist’s presence. Xavier freezes, fork in hand, paralyzed by the translucent glaciers and their scorching hot gaze that burns into him. He bites back a gasp, feeling an electricity pulsing between the two of them that has him shifting slightly in his seat. Randy smiles—all soft eyed, and Xavier almost falls for it until he remembers who he’s dealing with. _Don’t you dare let your guard down._

Xavier learns a few things about Randy during their dinner.

He’s 30 years old…much older to Xavier’s 22 years of age. Roman and him met at the police academy eight years ago and the two were instant friends. He’s a sergeant at TPD, a cold one apparently, so many other officers are intimidated by him—Xavier can’t say he’s surprised. Born in Knoxville, Tennessee, Xavier also learns that the bastard was born on April 1st of all dates. It explains his deceptive aura.

Unfortunately, they don’t touch too much on Randy’s personal life and Xavier is left helpless in knowing whether or not Randy is married. Of course, he hasn’t ever seen a ring on Randy’s finger but some people don’t wear wedding rings. And maybe he’s not married but he could have a girlfriend or fiancée—someone waiting for him at home. He could be just like some of Xavier’s customers. The thought depresses the young man for some reason and he dissociates from it immediately he feels his heart quiver, distant memories tugging at his mind.

Seth introduces them, like he said he would. Xavier nearly laughs when Seth tells them both that he hopes this introduction will mean the start of a great friendship. If he only knew...

“Those jeans you’re wearing were made to worship your ass, little lamb.” Randy says when Seth leaves, eyeing Xavier up and down, gaze alight with passionate hunger. The young man struggles against reacting. “You’re gorgeous, Xavier.”

Xavier can’t prevent a natural blush, he looks down—horrified. _What the fuck?_

Randy cackles like he’d been expecting that response from him. It’s pure mockery. “My innocent little harlot,” discreetly, Randy’s fingers lift to the nape of Xavier’s neck, caressing softly. The touch, like usual, sends a slithering sensation throughout Xavier’s body. He shivers, heart jumping alarmingly fast.

“No, not yours.” Xavier bites back, folding his arms around a very tall Randy’s neck. There’s a song playing in the background, he has no idea what it is but it’s a catchy tune—a sultry voice pollutes the air with heady seduction. He doesn’t protest when Randy pulls him closer until their crotches create sweet friction. A delicious tension curls around them both, and Xavier stares, too transfixed not to as Randy licks his lips in a way that makes him speechless, it causes a dangerously dark desire to pool in Xavier’s groin. “I—don’t belong to you or anyone else. I’m just a whore with all the power.”

Randy smirks, leaning into Xavier’s face until their lips are practically touching but not quite. Instinctively, Xavier parts his lips, searing ball of air escaping—it travels to Randy’s semi-parted lips and he groans. “Is that so?” Xavier can feel his breath seduce his tingling lips, and briefly, he allows himself to bask in the intensity of their dark tension.

“Yes,” the rush of air from Xavier’s lips tells a different story. His body too, he’s shuddering like an addict, practically fucking the man against him with his clothes on. “I—wonder what your dearest friend Captain Reigns would say were he to find out that you’re fraternizing with prostitutes. What about your career as a cop?” the pure hunger in Randy’s eyes leaves him fearfully fascinated—so strongly that he has to pull away slightly, keep his head in check.

“You’re not as intelligent as I initially assumed if you think that Roman doesn’t know that there is a possibility of you being a rent boy, little lamb. Your friend’s an ex-whore and Roman’s welcomed him with open arms. What do you think that says about him?” Randy pulls him close again, wrapping an arm around Xavier’s waist firmly. “And I’m not worried about my career. Not when we both know that you wouldn’t say anything.” It’s not said in the intimidating way Xavier normally associates with Randy.

“Maybe in the beginning, you would’ve been tempted to.” Randy continues, voice pitched low. “But I own you now. I see you pretending to hold your own...but your inner submissive always shines through in end. Just the sound of my voice and you quiver and melt. You’re mine, Xavier.”

Xavier’s heart leaps into his throat, he averts Randy’s gaze, looking anywhere but into those frigid blue eyes.

“Your silence tells me all I need to know, Xavier.” Randy continues, gently gripping Xavier’s chin so that the young man is looking at him. The bastard is grinning like the sadistic snake he is. “I want to take you home where I am going to tie you up and fuck you unconscious. And then fuck you back to consciousness and then out of it again— _over and over again._ ” He drawls, lips touching Xavier’s ear. And Xavier shivers despite himself. “Go tell your friend you’re leaving.” He’s left painfully empty.

Xavier shouldn’t but the fascination is too strong. He’s lost what little self-control he had…and self-respect...he’s been discovering that he has no idea what that is. Not when it comes to Randy.

*****

When Randy said home, Xavier didn’t think he’d meant his actual house.

The young man finds himself in a house that is far too large for just one person. Maybe Randy shares it with someone…a female companion and two little alien creatures. But his walls are blank, not hinting at the man possibly having a wife and kids. His house is cold too, doesn’t exude any of the warmth normally associated with families. Cold, clean and clinical; it represents the frigid nature of it’s owner.

Randy’s first order for him is to shower. Xavier waits until he leaves the humongous bedroom before getting out of his clothes and running to the bathroom butt-naked.

The hot water pelts his skin while he analyzes Randy’s reasons for bringing him here. Very few johns prefer to take hookers to their homes. Most of them utilize shady hotels, their cars, abandoned parks and dark alleys. While Xavier knows that the most obvious reason is sex, he can’t help the fearful tremble of his heart.

Sometimes, he doesn’t trust Randy...with good reason. The man’s a snake, and at times, it feels like there’s no good bone in his body. Sometimes it feels like everything’s a game to him. Like Xavier’s a toy he enjoys playing and taunting to test how far he can go before breaking. Maybe it’s not the case but Xavier’s heard of many psychopathic cops like him.

Xavier steps out of the shower laughing mirthlessly. How stupid must he be to have allowed this to continue for so long? _Three fucking months._ And what is he still doing here?

He reenters Randy’s bedroom with the intention of redressing and demanding to go home. His home. Where he’ll be safe from psychopathic serpents.

He finds fresh clothes waiting for him on the bed.

Xavier pauses a bit, taken aback. What is Randy playing at? Probably one of his illusions—to lure Xavier into some false sense of security. With his fake kindness.

Xavier only puts on the clothes because he can’t find his own. The grey t-shirt is huge, it may as well be a dress because it stops just before his knees. The black boxer briefs he ends up taking off because they’re too big on him as well. And finally, he slides on some sneakers he finds in a walk-in closet.

Some god out there must be sensing his uneasiness because on the other side of the bed, is a gun placed casually on the bedside table. Xavier’s feet have never carried him faster to a location. He grabs the gun—it feels heavy in his hand. And then puts it back where he found it, heart pounding hard inside his chest. Is this why he’s here? To be permanently deleted?

Xavier grabs it again—flinching because it’s so cold to touch but he needs to get out of here. He doesn’t trust Randy one bit. He’s learned to trust no one but himself, even Tyler, being the only friend that Xavier has still hasn’t earned his trust. He never will. There’s nothing that he could ever do that would warrant Xavier to trust him. The same goes for the rest of the world.

With the gun held shakily to him, Xavier exits the bedroom in a bid to find Randy. The aromas wafting through the air give Xavier an idea as to where the man might be. Xavier still gets lost a few times though, this house is large, but eventually he finds the kitchen.

Randy has his back turned to him, hard at work it would seem. “I hope you’re not allergic to seafood.” When the man turns to face him, Xavier points the gun at him—although he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. He’s never used a gun before, heck he’s holding it for the first time. “I’m making seafood paella.”

Randy has a smile on his face. The bastard has an amused grin on his face, moving around the kitchen, clearly unperturbed by the fact that Xavier is pointing a gun at him.

“I—have some questions!” Xavier winces as his voice cracks, but his heart is hammering inside his chest. This isn’t how he envisioned this would all go down. Randy’s face was supposed to go pale with fear, maybe he icy eyes were supposed to show a hint of panic. But…nothing…nothing except amusement.

“Ask away.” Randy responds lightly, turning away from Xavier to go back to his cooking—body language so fucking _casual,_ almost as if Xavier isn’t even worthy of being taken seriously.

It pisses Xavier off because this man still preys on his mind, gets to him so goddamn _easily—_ and what will it take for him— “You’re playing at something.”

Randy looks over his shoulder, cocking an eyebrow. “That’s not a question.”

Xavier’s entire body heats up. “What are you playing at?”

“Nothing.” Randy turns to face him, leaning against the counter, arms casually folded across his chest.   

Xavier shakes his head furiously, it’s not the response he’d wanted. Surely there’s more to it. “You’re lying to me!” he screams, heart beating uncomfortably fast. “You told me, you told me that you own me. This...all of it is a game to you. Why? What did I do to you?”

“Is it a game? Possibly. Why? I don’t know, I love playing games. Humans, particularly, are my favorite toys to play with—it’s been that way since I was young. It’s no hard feelings to you so the answer to your final question is you didn’t do anything to me...except maybe pleasure me in ways incomparable to anything else.”

“So what this is about sex? You’ve turned me into your fuck toy?” Xavier asks incredulously, glaring at Randy with all of the blood rushing to his face in rage—part of it stemming from how deep down, some small portion of him doesn’t seem to mind at all. The sex is _mind blowing._ His skin heats up, mortification burning him red hot.

“Well, you did save that as your name on my phone.” Randy grins like he finds Xavier funny. His hands go inside his pockets—he is the embodiment of calm, which is just fucking crazy because Xavier’s shuddering, holding the gun out stupidly, and futilely willing his heart to stop pounding so hard. “And maybe in the beginning you were. Right now...I am not sure. I’m still waiting on an epiphany.”

Xavier rolls his eyes, “And what are you going to do once you have that _epiphany_ ? Get rid of me? Permanently delete me? I know how you cops operate—and _you,_ you’re the worst kind. I—wouldn’t put it past you to kill me.”

“If that’s your way of asking if I’ve killed before, the answer is yes.” It’s Randy who rolls his eyes this time, in a mocking manner only he can manage. “I’m a cop, Xavier, sometimes I have to defend myself. As for what I am going to do to you…” it happens in the blink of an eye, Xavier’s anger is immediately replaced with ice cold fear when Randy moves so quickly, getting into his space and towering over him intimidatingly, the gun snatched from Xavier’s trembling hands. A slow smile spreads across Randy’s face as he pulls the slide, putting the gun to Xavier’s forehead. “This.” He pulls the trigger.

Nothing.

Xavier’s eyes snap wide open, salty liquid trailing down his cheeks immediately. Feather light touches caress his cheek, causing him to instinctively lean into them. They’re unsettlingly familiar and…comforting. “The answer is nothing.” Randy wipes away a lone tear. “I am a gentleman, Xavier. I wouldn’t dare hurt you. A delicate flower like yourself? Why, I shudder at the mere thought.”

With no response in mind, body still in shock, Xavier merely blinks up at Randy with wet eyes. He wonders what he’s gotten himself into. If it’s too late to back out now…it probably is. He can feel his body react with a _different_ kind of shiver with the slow trail of Randy’s hand to his neck. A moist breath against his lips, an electrical rush in his blood, even his nipples crinkle. “I’d only maybe… _bruise_ you a little but in sinful ways that would be so _pleasurable_ for you.” Another shiver unbidden, the feel of Randy’s hand wrapping around his throat, soft and warm, makes him feel powerless—constricted. Xavier tries to ignore how he doesn’t seem to mind at all.

* * *

 

The second time Xavier spends at Randy’s house comes just two days after Xavier’s initial ‘visit’. It comes as a complete surprise to him, causing him to yet again try and figure out just what Randy’s playing at before gives up, deciding not to over think things.

Xavier’s not here for anything beyond a little game of give and take.

He leaves for college the next morning with a chafed ass, and sore back. Oh, and he gets 50 dollars to utilize whenever he has a free period. Plus a barely there kiss to his forehead.

Xavier grins stupidly on his way out of the car.

Forehead kisses and fifty dollars. That’s got to be a promotion, right?

* * *

 

Like it is with the sex, Xavier finds himself frequenting Randy’s house than he does his clients’ homes...or hotels.

He just doesn’t know at what point in time it doesn’t just become about the earth-shattering sex. Yes, when he’s at Randy’s, the first thing that usually happens is that he gets his brains fucked out. But then there’s the other things that follow afterwards. Like the late night dinners than Xavier makes them because Randy’s a terrible cook (and Xavier still hasn’t forgotten that poisonous fish paella) and the video games that they play and the horror films that Randy forces him to watch because anime isn’t that interesting. And then sex, sex, and more sex. Then finally being driven to college in the mornings.

“Change that song, I hate it.”

Xavier startles and nearly drops the spoon in his hand, turning towards Randy’s voice.

“What, you’re not into Mercy Drive?” he blinks up at Randy, backtracking until his back connects with the counter, weary of the tall man’s predatory steps. The wooden spoon is still in his hand, luckily, the hotplate cooking their chicken breasts is set on low.

“I don’t hate them but I don’t particularly like them either.” Randy’s hand folds around Xavier’s neck, gripping gently, while he nuzzles Xavier’s smooth cheek. “And this is the dumbest chorus I’ve ever heard.” He jeers as the chorus to _Burn In My Light_ comes on. “Listen to that. ‘Hey! Nothing you can say! Nothing’s gonna change what you’ve done to me. Now it’s time to shine.’” He mocks in a baby voice, pale blue eyes wickedly gleaming. “Pathetic…” the disgust is so clear in his voice.

Xavier bites his lip, tries and fails to contain his laughs. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with this song.”

“That’s because you have hearing problems.” Randy coos, pinching Xavier’s cheeks mockingly.

The young man slaps his hands away, muttering an annoyed, “Pfft, stupid loser.”

Randy is unaffected, he licks down Xavier’s cheek instead, kissing the sensitive spot behind his ear. Unbidden, Xavier’s heartrate starts to pick up, his hands rest on Randy’s sculpted chest. He’s frozen in place yet again, unable to move as Randy breathes into his space, pair of lips just lightly brushing against his. “That’s not what you were saying when I ate the shit out of your ass not too long ago—”

“Oh my god—”

“—no, bad pun.” Randy hisses, flinching as if burned. He’s an adorable little serpent right now. “If I remember correctly you’d changed my name to Eros—the god of sexual desire—while I pounded you into the mattress. That’s the furthest thing from loser, little lamb.”

“Touché,” Xavier whispers, feeling his body warm up deliciously at Randy’s low chuckles. They’ve been affecting him a lot lately—in such good ways that it terrifies him sometimes.

“But...” Randy starts, voice taking on a dark edge. “I’ll still have to punish you for even daring to call me a loser. Turn that stove off, we have more _pressing_ issues to attend to.” His hands brace on either side of Xavier, trapping him to the counter with his hips pressing forward—throbbing cock to throbbing cock.

Xavier groans out loud, nodding frantically.

The food can wait.

* * *

 

Xavier clasps the bedsheet in a death grip while Sullivan pounds him quickly from behind.

He’s been at it for the past thirty minutes, and Xavier’s all but smashed his face into the pillows to muffle his hoarse, broken screams. The brutish politician came in angry today and Xavier’s paying for it with his body. It’s quite possibly the most agonizingly painful thing he’s ever felt. Even with, even when—

Xavier chokes back a sob, moving out of hiding when Sullivan drags him up by the roots of his hair. His thick bicep folds around Xavier’s neck, other hand holding Xavier in place by his waist. The vicious sound of skin slapping against skin is sickening.

Xavier’s hand shakily moves to the arm around his neck, tapping urgently— _please slow down._ His vision is tunneling with each slam into his body. It sends sharp, agonized spikes along his spine and _fiery heat_ to his lower back. Having no choice, because the pain is excruciating and verging on unbearable, Xavier decides to think of _him._

Shakily, he goes to stroke his limp dick, touching himself the same way _he_ would do it. He dissociates, envisioning himself and someone else instead. He imagines the eyes of a snake—icy blue, freezing everything in their path. But they still stare back at him with a scorching, ravenous, dark hunger.

 _His_ eyes alone are enough to make Xavier shoot his load—incomprehensible sounds and syllables bubble out of him as burst after burst of euphoric pleasure rams through his body. He’s flying high on clouds when—

Xavier is sent flying to the floor. He’s barely given the time to register it before he’s hauled up by the neck and crushed to the wall with his feet dangling. The rage in Sullivan’s eyes causes his heart to shrink in on itself.

“I’m—sorry,” he cracks out, already knowing what’s following.

“Do I pay you to go around screaming another man’s name in bed?”

Xavier’s eyes widen, cold sweat breaking out all over his body. He’d shake his head if he could but he’s still fighting for air, crushed against the wall. When did he—? How did he—?

“ANSWER ME, NIGGER!” A degrading slap to his head. Sullivan spits in his face and Xavier bites his lip to keep from crying. “You are so stupid! Fucking. Worthless. Piece. Of. Garbage. Jesus, what the fuck is it with you lady-boy hookers? You’re all a bunch of cock-hungry sluts!”

Xavier keeps silent, gasping in pain when he’s dropped to the ground. He curls in on himself, and tries to make himself as small as possible while a crazed, naked Sullivan paces up and down. It doesn’t last for as long as he’d like to because the giant man stops suddenly, glaring down at him in rage. “Who is he?” he asks enraged and terror seeps into Xavier’s bones.

_“Daddy, are you taking care of the dishes? I was going to do them but then Sable sent me to the grocery store. Did she leave already?” Xavier whispers, placing a few shopping bags on the counter. He goes to gently caress his man’s strong back, kissing the fabric of his work shirt._

_No response. In fact said man’s aura frightens Xavier. There’s a dangerous energy to it—and that’s never a good thing. It usually means that he will be on the receiving end of a— “Brock, what’s wrong?” Xavier questions worriedly, backtracking as Brock’s large frame stalks towards him. His eyes are red, even the blue of his eyes seems to have transitioned into a darker color. He hasn’t said a word but his face says it all._

_The first punch sends him spiraling backwards. He falls to the ground, wailing in pain. For a while he doesn’t hear anything besides the ringing in his ears until a large entangles in his hair, gripping enough to root out a few hairs. Xavier meets terrifying blue eyes, filled with promises of a monstrous wrath that the young boy trembles. And even though he knows it’s futile, begins begging for mercy although he’s done nothing wrong. “Please, Brock please. I-I didn’t do—anything w-wrong. I—promise.”_

_“Sable saw you with some boy in the park today. Who is he?”_

_For a brief second, Xavier scans his brain quickly, retracing what he did today until he remembers. “A boy from school, we got assigned together for an English assignment. I—swear.” He cries, opening and closing his trembling lips silently._

_It won’t work. Brock’s not listening. He never does._

_And with Sable gone to wherever...it’s going to be a long night._

_Xavier covers his face, and folds in on himself. The first kick connects with his abdomen. He lets out a sob, cursing his stupidity. Brock always tells him to steer away from other boys and he finds a way to mess up—like usual. So fucking stupid. He pushed Brock to do this. He’s a fuck up. A stupid fuck up. “I’m—sorry. I’m—sorry. I’m—sorry.” It’s the only way he’ll get Brock to stop._

The beating seems to last forever and Xavier’s left eye opens slowly when he’s gripped by his hair. His brows furrow in confusion and sadness when they connect with Sullivan’s deranged eyes. Where is Brock? And then he looks around, realizing that he’s at the hotel…and that Sullivan’s mad at him…for screaming _Randy’s_ name during, during—

“I’m sorry. I-I’m so sorry, Sir.” He whispers, tears falling down his cheeks.

Sullivan grips his arm bruisingly, muttering coldly, “Don’t ever do that nonsense again.” He redresses, with Xavier curled into one corner of the room, bloodied and naked. Once redressed, Sullivan digs into his wallet, throwing 100 dollars at Xavier, and storms out.

Xavier gathers the cash with shaky hands, trying and failing to push away the ghosts of the past. He starts to cry again, doesn’t know how long he spends in the shady room letting out his pain.

* * *

 

Tyler’s not here to help nurse his pain. Xavier doesn’t mind, he prefers it that way.

Since it’s Tyler’s his birthday week, he and Jey have decided to vacation Miami. It was a surprise that Jey had planned a few months before. They’ve called a few times and it sounds like they’re having a great time. Tyler suspects that something’s wrong with him but with the distance and nothing visible to the naked eye (the bruises are everywhere but Xavier’s face) his best friend has no proof.

Randy—ever the persistent one—calls nonstop too. They meet up four days after the incident with Sullivan, but Xavier isn’t willing to have sex. Not because he doesn’t want to but the bruises on his body will clue Randy in on the painful night he had nearly a week ago. He makes an excuse about having a tummy bug and not feeling well too Randy and part of him nearly expects the policeman to be mad at him.

Randy merely makes some joke mocking his cooking and how it’s probably caused him food poisoning.

It’s a unfamiliar but welcome relief for Xavier. He showers, and then wears his old worn out hoodie and sweatpants. Randy looks at him weirdly, penetrating blue eyes boring deep into Xavier’s being. He...Xavier thinks that maybe part of him is suspicious but Randy says nothing. They watch a cheerleading competition and Xavier finds himself admitting, albeit hesitantly, about his days as a cheerleader in high school.

“Don’t laugh,” his fisted hand connects with a laughing Randy’s arm gently. “We didn’t have a wrestling team in my high school so I was stuck on my own and because I couldn’t train with other wrestlers, I decided to join my high school cheerleading squad. I think it paid off too, I can do a lot of things with my body most people can only dream to do.”

Randy’s hand folds gently behind Xavier’s neck. He leans into nuzzle the young man’s cheek, breathing him in. He always does this but Xavier’s kinda gotten used to it. “I suppose you’re right.” A gasp sneaks past Xavier’s lips as he finds himself on his back suddenly, under a 250 pound weighing giant. “You are very _bendy_. And the things you do with your body...” Randy trails off, pressing his crotch to Xavier’s.

“N-No sex, please...” Xavier reminds him, tensing as it reregisters just how much more _bigger_ than him Randy is. It will be so easy for him to take anything he wants _forcefully._

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” Randy moves to settle in his initial position, bringing Xavier to his lap. The young man sits on top of him with his knees folded to his chest. He can feel Randy’s lips touch the back of his neck, big arms snugly surrounding him—familiar, desired, _safe_.

_Danger!_

Resting his head on his folded knees, Xavier’s eyes close. His heart is quivering, it happens a lot lately. Because of _him._ Randy’s turning his whole world upside down. But Xavier can’t leave him. He doesn’t want to. Not when Randy makes him remember...that _feeling_ that Xavier used to feel with Brock. Only with Randy, it’s more _intense—_ and it scares him so much sometimes that he ends up not acknowledging it for too long.  

He doesn’t know when he falls asleep but he wakes up later that night in the comfort of Randy’s bed, with the sheets around his waist. Randy lays next to him, besides his obvious weight, Xavier thinks he could sense his presence in a room full of people.  

Turning in the cold light, Xavier comes face to face with him _._ Randy’s fast asleep, sculpted chest rising and falling steadily. From the reflection of the silver moon shining through the windows, Xavier can’t help but think that this is the most human he’s ever looked...almost _vulnerable._

Watching Randy sleep is slowly becoming his favorite habit. There’s _something_ about seeing him unguarded, his features—still impassive—looking almost ethereal. _He’s a god._ Xavier’s fingers move of their own accord, gently caressing the side of Randy’s face, lightly rough with stubble. Randy doesn’t move an inch, for a serpent (who knows better than to trust anyone) Randy always seems to be comfortable around him. Xavier tries not to let that get to him too much.

Brushing his thumb over Randy’s soft lips, Xavier scoots closer to him. He blinks at Randy, slowly inching his face forward. He’s terrified, hasn’t done this in so long but he’s feeling defiant—and thankful. And because he doesn’t know how else to repay the man sleeping beside him for being _human_ sometimes, he simply leans forward, caressing Randy’s cheeks while planting a fearful barely there kiss to his lips.

And then he jerks away suddenly, as if Randy’s lips were burning him, carefully blinking at him for any signs of wakefulness. Nothing. Xavier exhales—partly relieved. He stares at Randy for what feels like forever, finally deciding to claim the spot that he desires. His heartbeat is much louder against Randy’s quiet one. His lips touch Randy’s once more—soft, silent, intimate. He draws Randy’s arm around his waist, cherishing the feeling of safety.

Another sigh from him and his eyes leave Randy’s chest for his face and Xavier freezes.

Randy’s eyes have fluttered open, revealing icy blues that are framed by gorgeous long lashes. It’s almost amusing how despite their translucence, they literally glow in the dark. So blank but still piercing right through Xavier. “Why are you looking at me like—that?” Xavier asks, a slight crack in his voice.

Randy’s response is silent—a soft brush of the lips against his.

_Breathtaking._

Xavier feels his soul rush out at the first contact.

* * *

 

“You going out again? Third time this week.” Tyler’s home today. He’s been here consistently for the past week actually. He said that they haven’t been spending too much time together lately. And while Xavier agrees, he also has a few of his own commitments...at least lately. And they won’t disappear just because Tyler’s noticed that he’s been neglecting their friendship.

“Customer...” Xavier trails off, grabbing his phone off the coffee table. There’s a message from Randy. He’s waiting downstairs.  “Look, I have to go. I’ll send you a text should this thing be an all-nighter.”

Tyler nods, accepting the kiss to his cheek from Xavier.

“I—know that you’re sleeping with that cop, Xavier!” Tyler yells silently when Xavier’s at the door. The hand that’s on the doorknob tightens and shakes. Xavier looks over his shoulder, lips parted silently. Tyler continues before Xavier can say anything. “While I don’t know if you’ve fucking lost your mind I will tell you to be safe. That cop’s a sadistic asshole...but I think he’s treating you right. You’re always happy lately—something that usually happens too far apart. I think that maybe he’s...good for you.”

“Thank you,” Xavier goes back to hug Tyler. Even though there are times that Tyler’s abandoned him since Jey, Xavier can’t deny that his best friend is always available whenever he needs him. He can’t deny Tyler’s support and pure love.

He may not know a parent’s love but surely the love Tyler gives him is close enough.

* * *

 

This place is so wild...and LOUD.

Xavier’s never been to a Monster Jam before—and he hadn’t known what Randy was referring to when he said he’d be taking them to one. Randy thought that he needed a little thrilling entertainment in his life, and because Xavier isn’t the type to really dabble in high-risk, dangerous activities Randy thought it would be perfect to bring him here. At least that’s what the man had told him on their way here.

Xavier’s grateful that Randy brought ear protection for his ears though. Between the blazing music and the roaring engines he’s not sure his ears can take anymore torture. He’s not going to lie, somewhere between the roaring engines and the cars getting smashed, Xavier jumps a little—they are a little too close to the action for his liking.

Randy’s a different story. Xavier’s never seen this side to him before—even when they’re playing his favorite zombie-killing video games. Randy’s like a little kid bursting with exuberant energy. Xavier snaps his pictures, records him cheer like a maniac when a car is smashed into the ground. Xavier smiles throughout the event, enjoying this side to Randy. Maybe foolishly, but part of him almost hopes that he’s the only one who ever gets to see it.

Like Randy’s seeing all his different facets—without permission.

The event lasts for a little over two hours. Randy’s riding on an adrenaline high when they leave and Xavier releases an embarrassed squeal when Randy lifts him into the air, yelling, “Woohoo!” while spinning him around. “Did you have a great time?” Randy asks him, joining their hands while heading the direction of his car.

Xavier tries to ignore how it feels like they’re a couple. Or two people who’d just been on a date. Randy didn’t say that this was a date. They haven’t put any labels on whatever this is. It may as well still be fucking...but with the other things. Xavier avoids asking because he’s quite comfortable with the way they are at the moment. Leaving room to think that there could be something _more_ would probably send him running for the hills.

He’s not ready, doesn’t think he ever will be again.

“I had an excellent time,” he whispers against Randy’s lips, cupping his cheeks. There’s a breath of silence, where they breathe into each other before Xavier pulls back slightly, looking into the most indifferent pale blue eyes. “More so because I was in your company than the actual event. Watching giant trucks spin around, fly through the air, and crush cars is not exactly my idea of fun.”

Randy chuckles, carrying him the rest of the way to the car. “That’s because you have no taste.”

“That must explain why I’m with you then,” Xavier quips, breath quickening as Randy gets into his space, the policeman’s lips brushing softly along the nape of his neck.

“I’ll take you home, Xavier. You need to be _fed_ and reminded just how _great_ I taste.” A growl, sharp teeth sinking into Xavier’s collarbone. He writhes against Randy, panting softly.

“Then what are we waiting for?” he folds his arms around Randy’s neck, biting his bottom lip softly.

Randy looks down at him, there’s a change in his smile—it isn’t mocking. For the briefest of moments it looks so genuine that even his frigid eyes develop a warmth, one so _beautiful_ that it snatches Xavier’s every breath.

So aside from being a serpent, this guy’s also a literal Prince Charming.

Xavier’s not usually this lucky.

* * *

 

Sullivan wants to meet up.

He says he wants to apologize. And usually, Xavier would accept in an instant but he’s not that desperate for the money so he ignores the message.

Besides, he has more than enough customers.

A whore like him is always in demand.

* * *

 

“Eek, Randy!” Xavier rushes back inside Randy’s house, attempting to drag the baggy t-shirt he’s wearing down to his ankles—as if that will help erase the creepy-crawly sensation all over his body. “S-snake! Sssnake! It’s your—backyard. Get it out. Get it out!” finding Randy in the kitchen, he jumps onto the man’s back, crazed eyes looking at the floor suspiciously.

“Little lamb,” Randy sighs, touching Xavier’s bare thigh so that the young man can turn in his arms. “What is it?”

“S-snake in your backyard!” Xavier cracks out, still shuddering. Gosh, it looked huge. He’s lucky he heard it hiss, he’d probably be dead right now had he not heard it.

“Oh...is that why you’re screaming like a banshee?”

Excuse him?

Xavier glares daggers at Randy, wanting to move out of his arms but too afraid to. “There’s a fucking snake in your backyard! I almost died.”

Randy just eyes him like he’s a petulant child. “Now you’re just exaggerating.” Xavier wants to protest as he’s placed on his bare feet. “Follow me.”

“No!” Xavier gasps, gaze widening when he realizes where Randy’s going. He’s going to _it—_ that slippery, sneaky _serpent._ It’s _huge._ Xavier refuses to confront it again—it was so dark, looking so comfortable slithering around Randy’s home. Xavier panics when he’s lifted off the ground once more. “Randy, what are you doing?” silence. “B-Baby?” he tries again, term of endearment falling naturally.  

“I want you to get acquainted to my favorite animal.”

Xavier nearly dashes back inside when he spots the snake again, but Randy wraps his arms around his middle, murmuring, “Shhh...not so fast, little lamb. Nothing’s going to happen to you, Xavier. I assure you just...meet him.”

Randy leans down, at a safe distance, the snake wiggles it’s body in a hypnotizing way that still makes Xavier terrified. He’s still so skeptical. He backtracks a step or two when the snake slithers towards Randy. It snakes around his leg but does nothing else.

“This is a Black Racer.” Randy starts, startling Xavier in the process. “I’m surprised you haven’t encountered it considering it’s the most common snake found in residential Florida. These beautiful fellows enjoy rummaging around the neighborhood during the daylight.”

“Is it poisonous?”

Randy snorts, the snake has slithered onto his torso. Xavier tries not to let the sight affect him. “Snakes are not poisonous, Xavier. They are venomous. Something is poisonous if _touched_ or _ingested._ Venomous means the snake is capable of injecting venom. As for this little beauty...” Randy coos, letting the snake slither to his arm. “He’s not venomous, but naturally, he will strike if he feels threatened. His preferred meals consist of rodents, lizards and frogs though so don’t worry—you’re safe.” It’s said mockingly sweetly, Randy stalking predatory steps towards him. The sadistic serpent.  

“You stay away from me!” Xavier warns, unsure if he should fear the snake more or Randy. They both share the same characteristics.

Randy laughs but obeys, pulling the snake off of him. It slithers away, headed for a tall tree in the distance. “You amuse me,” Randy pulls Xavier to him, kissing him on the lips. The young man gladly returns the kiss until he remembers...

“Ew. Ew. Ew.” He pulls out of the embrace, feeling his skin crawl nastily. “You’re touching me with your snake hands! Go take a shower.”

Randy chuckles, pulling Xavier to him. The touch is firm, making sure Xavier won’t escape again. “I suggest you get used to this, little lamb. When I was young, I developed a fascination for snakes. I had many different reptiles growing up. Snakes and I have I guess what you could call a special relationship.”

Xavier slips his arms around Randy, relaxing into his embrace. He looks at Randy, the sparkling of his tan skin with the sun shining down on him, and his eyes—they’re an alluring shade of blue today. Electric. They have Xavier completely enchanted. “This is the most you’ve told me about yourself,” he whispers.

Randy shrugs, Xavier folds his legs around his waist, issuing no complaints as they head back inside the house. “You’re not exactly forthcoming about your personal life too, Xavier.”

Xavier fakes nonchalance, dancing around a stoic Randy. “There’s not much to tell. I—was raised by my dad until I was two, apparently? I don’t remember cause he died. They don’t know where my Ma is so I grew up in foster homes. I got sent to this lady and her husband—they were sweet. They kept me until I was twelve before I got sent to another guy...B-Brock. Until eighteen...I, um, I left after that. Tyler’s my family now.”

He continues dancing around in circles, blinking the storm rising within. His heart hurts if he’s being honest. It has been hurting for a long time but it hurts even worse now. For lots of different reasons. His past. His present. His future.

Randy halts his movements, gripping his arm. “You’re an orphan?”

“Don’t know. If my mom’s dead too then yeah. But like I said, Tyler’s my family.” He bites his lip, closing his eyes to push away the bad memories. There’s only one way to do that—complete deflection. “I remember Seth said you were grew up in Knoxville. How was it?”

“Okay. I didn’t spend too much time around people. Usually, you’d find me in my room, feeding my snakes a rat or two.”

Disgust morphs Xavier’s face. “That sounds just like you. I bet you’d stay and watch too.”

“Why not?”

Xavier laughs, lone tear cascading down his cheek. Randy eyes him weirdly as he wipes it away. “No.” Xavier doesn’t complain when brought into a strong chest. “No tears, beautiful. You’re safe now.”

Tensing, Xavier processes the weight of Randy’s words. His mouth parts and closes silently, mind frozen—it doesn’t stop his eyes from darkening though, resembling the grey cloud before a heavy storm.

Randy holds him until his gut-wrenching sobs steal his consciousness.

* * *

 

Xavier wakes up the next morning clinging tightly to Randy.

It’s too hot, sweat clinging to their bodies, that also feel like a furnace. The disgusting position isn’t enough to make him want to pull away. He bites his lip, carefully placing one of his legs in between Randy’s legs so that they’re an entangled mess. The feeling of safety envelopes him, and though he needs to release his bladder, moving off the bed seems like a daunting task. Everything feels like too much effort—the only place he’d rather be is where he is.

He sighs as a pair of lips brush against his forehead.

“Morning.”

Xavier peeks up beneath the covers, “Hi.”

“How are you feeling?”

Such a complex question.

“I’ve been better,” he whispers tremulously.

Randy sighs, lost look flickering in pale blue eyes, like he doesn’t know how to deal with this. He probably doesn’t. Emotions are a foreign subject to him.

“I should probably go home. Tyler should be home.” Xavier clears his throat, deciding to make things simpler for him.

Randy gently grips his arm, pulling him back to the bed. “Stay. You’ve got everything you need right here.”

Xavier won’t fight him.

* * *

 

“I was with Alexa today.” Tyler reveals one night, when the two of them, by chance, end being in their apartment together. The place looks rather different—it feels like Xavier hasn’t been there in weeks when in reality he spends about two days here and then five days at Randy’s.

“Oh?” he slides the chopping board and onions to Tyler. He hates chopping the onions, while Tyler...manages.

“Mhm. At McDonald’s...we got talking.” Tyler has a parental-like smile gracing his pink lips. It makes Xavier a bit nervous. He hates it when such expressions are directed to him. “The girls are relieved apparently. They haven’t seen you on the streets in a long time so that means more johns for them.”

Oh...

Xavier rolls his eyes, checking on the spaghetti. “I—still have some cash saved up. I don’t have a reason to go there...yet.”

“Usually, you work regardless.” Tyler cocks an eyebrow.

“Not anymore,” Xavier shrugs stiffly.

“I’ll tell you I didn’t think you and Randy would come this far.” Tyler is still beaming brightly. “But I was wrong. He’s good for you. Really good. I’m happy you found love, Xavier.”

For some reason, the words cause Xavier to freeze in icy fear. _Love?_ No he isn’t looking for love. And Randy is not...he isn’t...Randy’s not looking for love too. Love only ever leads to one thing... _utter ruin._ After Brock, Xavier had promised himself to never...he doesn’t want to ever—

“We’re not together like—that.” He grits out, almost panicked. “Don’t assume things.”

Tyler rolls his eyes like he couldn’t be bothered and can see right through him. “You keep telling yourself that, doll face. I can see right through you, this guy’s got you hooked. You’re head over heels for him.”

Anger boils at Tyler’s words. Xavier tries to suppress it but he hates the mere thought of being in...of having these _feelings_ for...he doesn’t want to feel that way again. And Tyler’s words are forcing him to admit, to remember and _acknowledge_ that feeling.

Xavier can’t do that. He can’t.

“I’m going to bed. I’m not that hungry anymore...tummy ache.” He ignores Tyler’s confused expression, turns on his heels, and walks away.

There’s a message on his phone.

_I miss you. Please talk to me, give me a chance to apologize.-Sullivan_

Xavier takes a deep breath, biting his lips. He decides that he’s ignored the man long enough.

_Xavier: Hello, Sir. When do you want to meet?_

A response doesn’t come for at least fifteen minutes.

_Sullivan: When are you free, baby? You’re in control here._

_Xavier: Friday night._

An instant response this time.

_Sullivan: I’ll send you hotel details._

Xavier exhales shakily. He thought he was in control here.

_Xavier: Okay._

He switches his phone off right after. On nights spent away from Randy he usually sends the policeman a short goodnight text. He can’t bring himself to do it now, fearing the inevitable clenching sensation he’ll get in his heart. It will only confirm what Tyler told him—and Xavier’s not ready. He’s not ready.

* * *

 

He hasn’t looked like a drag queen in ages.

The thought floats in Xavier’s mind as he gets ready for Sullivan. His makeup looks heavy but still enticing, colorful, just the way Sullivan likes it. A pink harness top reveals his sparkling brown skin, and then his long thighs are sensually adorned by white lace stockings and finally a black, schoolgirl, low-rise mini skirt barely covering his plump ass.  

Xavier slips on his high heels, puts on his large, silver hoop earrings and goes to revitalize the curls in his hair. Tyler’s not here to help him with them. Xavier’s not going to pretend to be sad about it—part of him would’ve been ashamed. He’s glad Tyler’s not here to question him like some detective. He’d be disappointed...especially since he’d been professing his pride these past few days.

But a whore’s gotta do what a whore’s gotta do.

Xavier spent the whole of this week thinking about it. How he’d been foolish to let himself...to allow himself to...when he allowed his feelings to—he’d been naïve in letting himself...

_Fall._

There’s a reason why he hasn’t allowed anyone to shatter his exoskeleton. And the first time he lets his guard down is with _Randy_ of all people. The same man who manipulated him on their first meeting. It’s a good thing Tyler alerted him to his feelings, before things could get worse. Like unnecessary confessions. The same confessions that would’ve led to his ruin.

Xavier still shudders at his stupidity. But he’s going to rectify that. He wants to end things with Randy...but he doesn’t know how yet. He’s been blatantly ignoring the policeman’s attempts at any form of conversation—telephonically, texts and face-to-face. Xavier won’t communicate with Randy until he gathers enough courage to break all ties with him, but in the meanwhile...it’s back to business. He’s neglected most of his customers for so long. Has had his power taken away from him by a man who rarely even pays for his fucks. Well, never again.

At ten, Xavier exits his apartment, small handbag hung on his shoulder. Checking his phone to confirm the latest hotel’s address, he finds the Uber he requested waiting for him outside.

Despite tonight being a vibrant Friday, the roads are still clear on the drive to the hotel—quite possibly because of the rain. Everything passes by in a blur, and Xavier’s a bit surprised when the cab driver tells him that they’ve arrived.

Sullivan’s waiting for him outside the glass doors, looking dangerous, like usual. Xavier ignores the observation, and hugs him, following behind him inside the hotel.

The hotel room is shady, like usual. The walls are peeling off, there’s mold on the roof, and the bed looks unhygienic. Xavier keeps some distance between both of them—waiting for that apology. For them to talk things out.  

Sullivan attacks him with his lips instead, they feast on Xavier’s neck.

Maybe the apology will come afterwards.

Xavier’s back touches the bed, he’s buck naked, with his thighs splayed open. “My precious, little faggot—always so tight.” Sullivan groans above him. His thrusts are savage, nothing new, and almost punishing like Xavier’s the one in the wrong and not _him._ His blue eyes are monstrous too, violently bruising Xavier’s soul. The young man trembles, feeling a bludgeoning to his prostate. Closed eyes snap wide open at Sullivan’s shouted, “Look at me when I’m fucking you, nigger!”

He’s going harder, fingernails digging into Xavier’s neck, imprinting on his skin. “Moan for me, you whore! Like you were destined to do! Do it the same way you did that night I put you in your place. Say my name!”

Xavier doesn’t want to, but that fist  _so_ close to his left eye causes him to moan loudly. He screams, and groans, and moans out Sullivan’s name—singing him all the praises in the world. It seems to last forever until finally Sullivan collapses on him. Xavier breathes shallowly, ass throbbing, and back on fire.

They spend close to two hours at the hotel before Sullivan announces that he’s going to take Xavier home.

Still no apology.

Xavier keeps silent, redressing quickly before following Sullivan outside the hotel. They have to trek to Sullivan’s car that’s parked two blocks away because he refuses to park it at an illegal brothel’s parking lot. It could bring him unnecessary attention he informs Xavier on the way to his parking spot. Well, at least they’re being sheltered from the rain by his large umbrella.

Xavier turns his attention to him though, when they pause at a red light and Sullivan’s grip on his waist tightens. He only ever does that when he’s feeling threatened—usually when another guy eyes Xavier in a ‘funny’ way. Xavier pretends to lean into his touch—to reaffirm. But he couldn’t care less to be honest. It’s past midnight and he wants to get home.

“There’s a suspicious man coming at us. Stand behind me and don’t say a word.” Xavier doesn’t have enough time to process the words before being shoved roughly behind a giant Sullivan. “Can I help you?” is asked rudely.

“Xavier, come out from behind. I want to talk to you.”

Xavier’s stomach clenches, he gets that ‘punched in the guts’ sensation. And he’s starting to shake, it has nothing to do with the rain now pelting his barely clothed body.

He knows that _voice—_ it’s _him._

“Who are you?” Sullivan asks, Xavier doesn’t miss how cold his tone is.

“None of your business. Release the man behind you, I want to talk to him.”

Sullivan’s response isn’t verbal, it’s another rough shove, ensuring that Xavier is hidden behind him.

And then somehow, things get really confusing because Xavier finds himself stumbling backwards, and nearly hitting the cold wet sidewalk. It registers too late that Randy and Sullivan aren’t too far away from ripping each other’s throats off.

And it’s Randy who lands the first blow to Sullivan who is a little bit shorter than him but still bigger in terms of weight. It goes without saying that Xavier gasps in surprise and horrification when Sullivan is sent stumbling to the ground.

Randy’s chilly gaze then finds him, rain pelting down his skin, he’s _dangerous._ Xavier’s supposed to be focused on how his terrifying his eyes are—all icy and unfeeling, but still burning with rage. Xavier notices that, he does. But he also notices the rain pelting Randy’s skin, the droplets that cling to his twisted lips, and the wetness against his grey t-shirt. He’s a sadistic beauty.

The grip to his arm, hurling him up is far from gentle. Xavier screams in pain, stumbling on his heels as Randy drags him to an unknown location. “R-Randy, let me go.” He starts to beg, cursing himself for always landing in these predicaments. He’s going to get his ass beaten, isn’t he?

The thought has his heart quivering in fear. “Please let me go,” he tries again, still stumbling. Randy’s walking fast, and the tall heels Xavier’s wearing weren’t meant for fast-paced walking. “I—haven’t done anything w-wrong. Please, please Ran—” he’s sent flying to the wet ground again. It’s Sullivan.

Xavier watches, gripping his knee in pain, while Sullivan launches at Randy. He’s muttering a bunch of things—all nonsensical to Xavier’s ringing ears. He’s fighting Randy, involved in a vicious brawl with him. Punches fly, kicks landing—it gets so bad that Xavier tries to stand through the throbbing pain on his knee.

Adrenaline is coursing throughout his body, and the first person he tries to pull away from the nasty fight is Randy. He’s more vicious, landing sickening blows to a clearly weak Sullivan. Xavier’s always known him to be a frigid creature but he’s never seen this completely _heartless,_ almost monstrous side before. Randy’s volatility scares him whole.

But he’s still working on adrenaline, and attempts to push the bigger man away from Sullivan. Randy turns to face him, baring his teeth in an angry hiss. “ _What is it?_ ”

“What are you—doing? You’re a cop, you’re not supposed to—do this to a civilian, Randal!” Xavier starts, voice cracking in panic.

Randy laughs cynically, sending icy shuddering to Xavier. “Are you a whore, Xavier? Do you still allow other men _inside_ you for money?” he seethes, towering over Xavier with a sharp glare.

Another shove, Xavier stumbles backwards. “Yes, he’s a goddamn whore! _My whore._ Who is this man, nigger? Did you send him here?” Sullivan has taken a crouching Randy’s place. Xavier backtracks, shaking his head with no syllables leaving his mouth. “Is this how you’ve come to disrespect me? I see you didn’t learn your lesson the last time.” And before Xavier can so much as try to defend himself, pain explodes behind his right eye.

He screams, and struggles against the large hand clawing at his neck. Sullivan is undeterred, he looks vicious, digging deeply into Xavier's skin, cutting the young man’s air supply off for a brief minute before he’s pushed away harshly. Xavier’s eyes widen, agonizing gasps escape him—the tension draining out of his body. Trying to see through the darkened, wet skies, his gaze flickers to Randy in time to see him face-punt a kneeling Sullivan. The cracking sound is sickening and the man falls to the ground, groaning in pain.

Xavier’s eyes widen, connecting with glowing blue eyes. They send unpleasant shivers down his spine. It terrifies him, how they are filled with a cold fury. They pierce right through him, those cold blue eyes, sending an numbing cold to his body. He’s shaking and he’s frozen in place even with the predatory steps stalking towards him.

Suddenly, without even being given the chance to snap out of it, Xavier’s hauled to his feet again, being dragged away from whatever was happening not too long ago.

Xavier stumbles, trying to catch up, but it’s difficult with these damn shoes he has on and the throbbing pain on his knee. “Get in the fucking car.” Randy says, voice surprisingly soft, not that it’ll lower Xavier’s guard. Everything that happened on that empty street is still fresh in his mind.

Xavier complies though, fearing that the violence will be extended to him. In the car, he makes himself as small as possible, keeping so silent he can hear his pounding heart, he doesn’t dare attempt to breathe and looks out the window.

Dread seeps into his pores, making him shivering cold—this is Brock all over again.

*****

“I want to go—home!” He announces as soon as he enters the warmth of Randy’s home. It’s not the aura that is warm, just the house. The aura is a chilly, terrifying one. It is emanating from Randy and Xavier doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t think he’s safe here.

Randy laughs—so coldly that it reminds Xavier of a blizzard, terrifying and filled with cold fury—and shifts his stormy eyes to Xavier. Controlled predatory steps stalk towards him and he shuffles backwards until he connects with the counter behind him. His skin burns as Randy scrutinizes his face—he looks a mess and he knows it. He probably has smeared mascara lines and peeling makeup. His right eye is throbbing too.

Randy shakes his head suddenly, getting into his face. “Are you a whore, Xavier?”

Xavier can’t answer. His brain seems disconnected from his body. He knows what he wants to say but Randy’s question has caught him off guard somehow...especially because the man knows what he does for a living.

“Answer me, Xavier.”

Xavier’s breath hitches, and his heart starts hammering quickly.

_“When did I tell you to come back home?”_

_Xavier hesitates before answering, “05:00 p.m. Daddy.”_

_“And what is the time?”_

_Another hesitation from Xavier. He’s too scared to answer now._

_“Answer me, Xavier!”_

_Xavier jumps at the cold tone, “05:15, Daddy.”_

_“You’re late. Were you enjoying allowing your boyfriend to touch what’s mine so much—”_

_“He’s not my boyfriend. D-Daddy, I don’t have a boyfriend. I-I love you, remember? Only y-you.” Xavier starts to panic, heart hammering viciously at Brock’s chuckles. Still he opens his mouth silently, knowing what’s coming but hoping that just this once he’ll be able to get through to Brock._

_The first kick has him doubling over in pain. And before he knows it, Xavier’s feeling it everywhere. He covers his face, whimpering in agony. “Why do you enjoy angering me, Xavier? Look at what you make me do to you? Do you think I enjoy this? You’re nothing but a worthless whore. And whores must be kept in order from time to time.”_

“Little lamb, what’s wrong?” comes a silent voice, cold hand gently gripping Xavier’s arm.

“You said you’d never hit me!” Xavier wails, pushing the hands away from him.

“Calm down!” a hiss into his ear, and Xavier freezes in fear.

His wet vision is slowly fading. The blue eyes looking back at him look lost, not the viciousness he’d been expecting from them. This is...it’s Randy. Xavier clutches his chest, trying to regulate his breathing. But he’s emotional, and angry, and he’s vulnerable—completely powerless. “I-I hate you! Why won’t you leave me alone?!” he screams, fighting against Randy’s chest. “Fucking leave me alone!”

“Why?” Randy questions, he’s shaking his head stubbornly. “What are you so afraid of, Xavier? That you’d choose to _whore_ yourself out when you can do so much _better._ ” Xavier startles, cowering as Randy slams his hands on either side of the counter, with him trapped inside.

“You’re just saying that because _you_ want me all to yourself. Well, you can’t have me! Do you understand? You won’t have me, you can’t. Because I won’t allow you too! You’re not going to make me powerless!”

Randy shakes his head, brows furrowing with dark confusion. “Power?” he gets into Xavier’s face, smiling in that dangerous way that always makes Xavier feel unsafe. “You think that this is about _power?_ I don’t give a fuck about your power!” Randy shouts, jaw straining tightly. “So you’re whoring yourself out because you’re powerful. You have all the power.” It’s said mockingly, Randy laughing to himself contemptuously. “My, my, Randy—when you think you’ve heard it all...”

His true colors are showing, Xavier thinks to himself. The serpent in Randy never left, it was always there, beneath the surface, waiting to strike. And Xavier had been right to backtrack when Tyler made him aware of his feelings. He’d been right to refuse to acknowledge anything. He’s being scorned right now, made to feel pathetic and useless—powerless, like Brock used to make him feel.

“I—don’t care what you think!” Xavier’s eyes harden, glaring defiantly at Randy. “I-I’m still special. It’s pigs like yourself whom I enjoy taking the power from. You closeted men think you’re all so special and powerful until you crumble because of guys like me. And because you can’t stand yourself afterwards, you lash out at me thinking it’ll make you feel powerful but you’re wrong because you still come back to me again. I’m not some worthless whore. I’m special—special.”

“You really are just a little lamb,” Randy trails the back of his hand down Xavier’s cheek. The young man leans into it before he can stop himself. There’s a charismatic smile making an appearance on Randy’s face, his eyes...to say they are blue would be like saying the sun is yellow. Sufficient but not accurate enough to capture the burning Xavier can see in them.

“Too innocent for you own good, and recklessly naïve.” Randy continues, smiling lightly in amusement. “You don’t hold the power, Xavier. Quite frankly, you’re all losing. The men you fuck are losing by not being their true selves. And you’re losing because in their eyes, you’re just another hole. You may as well be an animal—they may groan loudly, tell you how great you feel but they still lash out. They still beat you. Where is your power?”

“It’s...I—fuck you!”

“No,” Randy shakes his head. “not today. And it was quite bold of you to assume I’m in the closet. Or were you projecting, Xavier? Is that what you’ve been telling yourself? Is that why you’re ignoring me? You’ve convinced yourself that I’m just like them.”

“You are!” Xavier snaps, heart breaking into pieces. “You forced me to have sex with you. You’re no saint, you’re just like them!”

“I concur, I am no saint.” Randy lifts his hands in a surrendering gesture. “I also admit that we didn’t start whatever this is on the best of terms but I’m still different. You know that, deep within your heart, you know that. I-I, you know I—” nothing, Randy rubs his forehead.

“I—don’t think I can do this anymore. I—was going to tell you. You’re right, I’m comfortable with being a whore...not this...I don’t want this.” Xavier whispers tremulously, wet with tears, he tries to maneuver past Randy.

A large hand grasps his wrist, preventing him from leaving. Pale blue eyes regard him intensely, searching. “Who hurt you, little lamb?”

The tears fall faster, Xavier shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing. “Fuck you. Fucking let me go, you don’t know me!” snatching his hand out of Randy’s grip, he stumbles away, frantically searching inside his handbag for his phone. Randy’s pursuing him, and Xavier runs and locks himself inside the man’s bedroom. Shakily he takes out his phone, dialing the one number he knows by heart.

“Babe, hello?”

Xavier tries to block out Randy’s voice just outside the door. He’s banging on it, requesting to be let in. “Tyler, please h-help me.”

* * *

 

Xavier would like to think that he knows pain.

When he was twelve years old, he got sent to live with a man named Brock Lesnar and his wife Sable, with their toddler daughter. At thirteen, Brock’s touches started to become...strange. A caress here, inappropriate smack there. Xavier didn’t like it at first but slowly, with touches to the right place, he’d find himself getting excited.

These would all be initiated when it was just himself and Brock in the house. Sometimes when their two year old was in the house too but at her age, she didn’t have a clue what was happening. And then one day, Brock was helping him practice his wrestling and Xavier found himself pinned beneath him. Brock  hadn’t had penetrative sex with him then, just simply grinded until they both came. And then he’d asked Xavier how it felt, and he’d answered honestly, it was great—his very first orgasm.

The grinding transitioned, and soon they would be done naked. Then one day they went all the way—and while it had been painful, the experience had still been great and Xavier got better with time.

He doesn’t remember when he started developing feelings for Brock, just that one day he woke up and was jealous when Brock was kissing Sable goodbye. He thought that he was the only one who felt that way until one day he earned a beating from Brock for talking to one of their neighbor’s teenage boy. Brock...he felt the same way too, and just like Xavier, didn’t want to see him with other people. Only with Brock, he didn’t earn any beatings for fraternizing with his wife.

Soon, the beatings would be for any and everything. But Xavier didn’t mind, he’d remind himself that Brock did everything he did out of love. That was until he turned eighteen and Brock decided that what they shared wasn’t good enough. Xavier found himself kicked to the curb, as Brock and his wife relocated to South Dakota. Brock wasn’t gay and he’d been fed up.

Xavier knows pain, he does.

It came to him disguised as love—a long time ago.

But nothing compares to the pain he feels now, apart from _that_ man.

It’s been a week.

Seven days ago, he had Tyler fetch him with Jey. He turned away from Randy, shunning away what they had, what they could’ve had, and probably would’ve have had. It hurts but Xavier thinks he made the right choice. It was only going to be a matter of time before Randy would’ve turned on him too. The man had already been making him feel powerless—deceptively luring him into an illusion.

Xavier isn’t meant for love.

He learned that the day he was abandoned and forced to figure things out himself. It hurt but he picked himself up and learned to be independent. He’s been doing fine all along, and will continue to do fine...without Randy in his life.

“Tyler, turn that song off!” he panics as Genietorturers’ _120 Days_ comes on. He _loathes_ that song. _Ran—that_ man used to fuck him with it playing in the background. Used to say it kind of reminds him of them.

“Why? I thought you loved it.”

“No reason...please,” he begs, lifting off the couch to escape to his room. Tyler isn’t working fast enough.

In his room, he collapses on the bed, hugging his pillow to him. He closes his eyes, cries internally, and tries to escape burning blue eyes staring back at him. He hears the door open, and opens his eyes, the tears leave unbidden and a tremulous exhale parts his lips.

“Oh, Xavier. I—wish you’d talk to me. It’s been a week.” Tyler treads his fingers through his hair. “What did Randy do to you?”

“N-Nothing,” he whispers.

“Then why are you crying? What did he do, babe?”

“I—think that I—n-no,” he shakes his head frantically, heart beating fast. “I—he’s going to hurt me, Tyler. Like B-Brock.”

“So that’s what this is about?” Tyler joins him in bed. “You’re still allowing Brock to take so much of you after everything he’s already taken from you? You’re going to allow him to hold you back? You can’t allow that guy so much power over you, Xavier.”

Xavier blinks up at Tyler. “I—loved once, and it burned me. I can’t do it again, I can’t.”

“Why? You’re clearly in love already so why not just...go with the flow? Especially when it looks like...I don’t know, that maybe Randy feels the same way. He’s been calling nonstop. He’s come over a few times but you refuse to meet him.”

“I’m scared of him.”

“What, has he laid a hand on you?”

“No,” Xavier gets out through a pained breath. “It’s just, he m-makes me feel things that I—didn’t even feel with Brock. And I’m scared all the time, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I—he scares me so much. I—don’t think someone like me was meant to love someone like him. He can do better...so I let him go. It’s easier that way—for my sanity.”

“Oh, Xavier...” Tyler kisses his hair, and Xavier leans into his touch, crying silently against him. “You can’t run away forever. You’re better than this, better than _Brock._ If I were you, I’d live my full life—prove to him that you’re more than a whore. You deserve love, Xavier. You do.”

“Maybe...but not with him.”

* * *

 

Sometimes the greatest courage takes a single step.

A step forward. A leap of faith. And like Tyler said ‘going with the flow’. The last time Xavier was here, he’d been running out in a ripped skirt (caused by Sullivan), with his heart in ruins. He’d been running away from his fears—his vulnerability.

Today he’s still as fearful as he’d been when he left the house.

But he’s had time to think. To sort through his emotions. To ponder the truth of Tyler’s words. Brock still has a hold over him. Xavier’s always protecting himself from the wrong person. He refuses another man’s feelings for him because he’s still so scared. Scared that Randy will turn on him. Scared that Randy views him the same way as Brock. Scared that one day he’ll get tired. Scared of the violence. If he admits that he fell and Randy uses that against him...

“You. What are you doing here?”

Xavier’s gaze widens as he connects with pale blue eyes. He’s missed them so much...and he’d been too in thought to realize that the front door’s opened.

“Randy, h-hi.” He whispers, insecurely tugging at the hoodie he has on. It belongs to Randy, and Xavier can see the surprise etched on his face as he takes in his outfit.

“What are you doing here?”

Okay, so he looks mad. Xavier hesitates. Now that he’s here, he doesn’t know what he wants to say. All he knows is that he wanted to be here, to...maybe, possibly fix things.

He blinks when Randy walks away from him, leaving the door opened.

Unsure if that’s a silent ‘come in’, Xavier enters the house nonetheless. Randy’s still walking away from him, and Xavier has no idea where he’s going, but he panics, yelling softly, “My name is Xavier Woods.” He forces the tears away, willing his heart to stop beating so fast.

“I think I’m an orphan, I can’t be sure. When I was three I lived with a foster family—a man named AJ Styles and his wife. They were good parents. When I was twelve, I switched homes and went to live with another man—Brock and his wife Sable and their two year old daughter. And when I was thirteen, Brock and I began an affair behind his wife’s back. Brock was a jealous man, and I wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone—especially other boys. I’d get beaten the crap out of. I used to think that it was love...until he left because he couldn’t stand to admit that he preferred men. I—was eighteen. And I used to think I was in-love with him.”

“I-I’m scared, R-Randal. Emotionally, you scare me. Sometimes, when I’m with you, I’m reminded of the pain that he put me through. I’m reminded of how—powerless I felt. And I get scared because I—um, I know that I’m i-in love with you. And I—am tired of hurting. I—don’t want you to hurt me.”

He doesn’t know when Randy got into his space but Xavier leans into his touch, clutching his t-shirt. He cries and cries, releasing everything. It seems to last forever before Randy’s quiet voice reaches his ears. “You’re mine, Xavier. You’re mine and I want you—all of you. You’re not weak, and I could never hurt you. The only thing I can try to is be the man that Brock wasn’t.”

Xavier keeps silent, biting his lip, and looking anywhere but Randy’s eyes.

“I mean it,” Randy cups his face, forcing the eye contact. His eyes don’t look cold, their translucence burns a sparkling blue color. “I’m afraid too, little lamb. Afraid because maybe I’m just like the many men you wish you’d never encountered. But I’m doing my best to change that. I—don’t want to add to the list of men who’ve caused you nothing but pain. I’m in love with you, Xavier. And I want to treat you the way you deserve...but only if you’ll give me the chance. Allow me to do what the others couldn’t. Let me worship the ground you walk on.”

Thinking back to Tyler’s words, Xavier nods thoughtlessly. Brock’s taken so much from him. And Xavier...wants this. He deserves love too, he does. And Randy’s pale blues...

There’s so much love in their glaciers.

For him.

“I love you too, Randal.”

And when Randy’s arms tighten around him, Xavier swears he can hear his soul sighing contently. He’s... _home._

_Finally._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


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